I Fell Through A Wormhole And All I Got Was This Lousy Human
by hannahisnotarealperson
Summary: When Hannah is accidentally pulled aboard the Enterprise- or kidnapped as she insists- she finds herself part of a large, multicultural and bizarre family. Adapting to her new surroundings, the crew form deep friendships- both with her and with each other, and Hannah must unwillingly go where no millennial has gone before.
1. Chapter 1

This was not Vulcan ship.  
James Tiberius Kirk's astute senses told him that this room, even under the guise of darkness looking as though it had suffered an explosion, was indeed, not a Vulcan ship. Perhaps the first clue was the disarray of clothes draped over a chair, or perhaps it was the huge piles of books that littered the sides of the bed. Or possibly it might just have been the retro alarm clock that wasn't retro at all, given the date it proclaimed; "27th October 2015". That wasn't a star date.

"Sulu," hissed Kirk, "How long ago was 2015?" The equally puzzled looking Sulu twisted to look at his captain. He shrugged, and furrowed his brow.

"Like, 24…3? Years ago?" He suggested. "Yeah, that sounds about right."  
Kirk swore under his breath. This was definitely NOT a Vulcan ship. He twisted, getting a good look around the room. It was quite small- very small in fact- plain, most of the walls appeared to be bare. It was a complete mess though, admittedly, a path from each of the two doors to the bed had been artfully crafted.

"Who the hell are you?" Demanded a voice from behind the Star Fleet officers. Sulu and Kirk spun around, phasers out and pointed at the small figure stood in the doorway, bag slung over her shoulder. Glasses pushed up on to the top of her head, she stared at the two men in her room. Sulu immediately lowered his weapon, however, Kirk paused for a second longer. She stared at the men, unflinchingly. "I'm not repeating myself," She insisted, striding into her room, and flicking the light switch. "My room, my rules. My questions get answered."

* * *

"Keptin?" Crackled a voice through Kirk's comms. "Keptin, where… where are you?"

"Chekov?" Kirk girl sat on her bed and stared at him, incredulously.

"Oi!" She demanded. She was ignored. Again.

"Chekov! We…" Kirk glanced around the room, "I think we're in the past." Another voice, calmer, more controlled, began to speak over the Russian accent. Hearing this extra voice, the girl rolled her eyes and grabbed the forearm of the blonde man. She dragged him to face her, and repeated her question, yet was spoken over.

"Can you beam us back?" Kirk asked, doubt and disbelief edging his words.

"I think so, Keptin!"

"Then do it!"

"We're gonna die," mumbled Sulu under his breath, as a pale light juttered into existence around them. The girl, still holding on to Kirk's arm, gaped at them as they seemed to be swallowed by the light.

* * *

This was not her room.  
The room was largely empty, with only a control desk standing behind a glass panel, and even more strangers. She raised a hand as people started to speak, her arm trembling as she spoke over them.

"Right, I don't know who you lot are, and I don't really care at this point. But could someone tell me for the love of God… what the _hell is happening?!"_ Her voice rose in a crescendo to a panicked squeak. Feeling her own pulse race into a frenzy, she tried to slow her breathing- dissolving into a panic attack would not help her. "Because you may have ignored me when you invaded my room, but if I, for some bizarre reason, am going to be taken hostage then I want to know why," gulping down air, and staring at each of the people in the room in turn, she glowered at the unknown. McCoy reached towards her, and she flinched backwards, flinging her glasses from her head and causing them to fall to the floor in a clatter. It was deafening in the room.

"Captain," Spock commanded the attention of both Kirk and the girl, as they both turned to look at him. One with weariness, one with frightened hostility.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to return to the bridge, and allow Dr McCoy to explain to…" he gestured to the girl "the child, her circumstances?" Kirk nodded and walked out of the room without another word, merely a concerned glance back to the girl. Slowly the room emptied until only the girl, McCoy and a singular red shirt remained. McCoy and the girl stood in a stare-off. McCoy blinked first.

* * *

"Do we know why that," Kirk gestured back towards the transporter room, "happened?" Spock raised an eyebrow and spoke slowly,

"It is my belief that in your attempt to transport across to the Vulcan ship you passed over a crack in the skin of time and space," he replied to his captain, preparing himself for the onslaught of disbelief that would surely follow. "Mr Scott has already confirmed my theory in his analysis of the… disturbance." Kirk raised an eyebrow.

"A crack? Sure. Why not," he muttered under his breath. "Plausible."

* * *

"A spaceship," She repeated. McCoy nodded. She let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head.

"Technically the term is starship," McCoy corrected, with a sly smirk. The girl rolled her eyes and muttered a sardonic apology. McCoy could feel he was going to like this girl. "What's your name?" He finally asked, "Didn't really get a chance to ask when you threw your hissy fit at us." The girl sighed and looked up at McCoy. With a look of utter dejection, she seemed to debate over whether or not to respond.

"Hannah,"

"Is that your real name?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Hannah responded, the first hint of a smile breaking her shell of disbelief and fear.

* * *

Kirk listened to Scotty and Spock explain to him the 'crack' and he could honestly say he understood maybe three words of what they had said.

"Did you just say the fabric of space and time is cracked?" A dry voice asked from one of the many doorways that open on to the bridge. "You're no gonna tell me that Dr Who is real as well, are you?" Hannah raised an eyebrow at them.

"Scottish? Captain, you never told me she was Scottish!" Scotty beamed. "But no, I'm afraid he is very much fictional." Kirk watched the conversation which didn't make anymore sense to him than the previous one about dark matter, and corruption of something-or-other. Hannah grinned at the puzzled look on Kirk's face, and stared around the room. When her eyes fell again on the commanders standing in the middle of the Bridge, she frowned at their solemn gazes. Scotty had gone from delighted upon hearing her accent to sorrowful, and Kirk watched the young woman with a furrowed brow.

"As I understand it, this rupture, crack, thing," Kirk began eloquently as always, "has closed. Even if we attempted to send you back to your home, neither Spock here, nor Scotty believe that it would be…" he trailed off.

"Successful," supplied Spock. Scotty began to form words yet a swift elbow to his ribs caused him to close his mouth again. Hannah blinked. And then she swallowed. Understanding dawned slowly on her face, and she turned and walked out. McCoy, having somehow become her unofficial guardian, swiftly followed her out.

* * *

Hannah had sat, staring at walls, in the Med Bay for nearly an hour before Kirk interrupted her solitary vigil. She didn't speak as he sat down next to her, nor did he. McCoy slowly retreated into the furtherest-most part of the med bay and busied himself with nothing. Finally, Kirk broke the silence that shrouded them.

"I'm sorry," he stated simply. When Hannah turned to look at him, the hard lines that had dragged her brow down into an angered frown softened. Her eyes rounded from fury to sorrow, beginning to glisten with unshed tears.

"For what," despite her distinctly tearful state, Hannah's voice was steady, the words seemingly forming into solids in the air. "The kidnapping me, and moving me not only off my own world but out of my own timeline, or are you sorry that now you're stuck with me and have to wrestle with your own conscience every time you see me?" Her words were direct, and cutting. Her mournful eyes were hard behind their veil of tears, and Kirk was taken aback by the hostility of her words.

"Both?" He suggested, trying a smile at her. She didn't return the gesture. Hannah brushed a hand aimlessly through her thick hair, her hair immediately falling forwards into its original position. Meeting Kirk's gaze yet again, Hannah huffed out something that almost resembled a laugh. Lowering her defence of hostility, she brushed a palm over an eye, blurring the remnants of mascara with the half-formed tears that had threatened to burst from the dams of her eyelashes moments ago.

"So,"she tried, "You're the captain?" Kirk waited to see whether he should swell with pride or whether it was his turn to turn to hostility as a defence. "Glad to know I was stolen by a high ranking officer. Would have preferred an Admiral, or even better a General."

"We don't have Generals-" Kirk began, but he was not allowed a chance to finish before Hannah cut across him.

"-No, of course not. That's the Army, you're using Navy terminology," She reasoned, with a wry smile. Only now did Kirk realise this deadpan tone was her messing with him. He let a small laugh, which caused Hannah to break into small bubbles of laughter. "Did you think I was being serious about the 'kidnapping' still?"

"Well, we did. Kidnap you I mean- accidentally," Kirk spluttered out, and Hannah's smirk only broadened into a grin. "I'm Kirk, by the way. Jim Kirk."

"Hannah,"

* * *

Hannah swung her feet off the edge of the medical bay as she read from the oversized textbook. McCoy sneaked a look over at her, trying to read the cover of her book. As she looked up, he turned away, returning his gaze to the monitor in front of him. Catching the end of his sudden jerk back down, she smiled, and returned to reading her own book. McCoy paused before he glanced back up.

"Anatomy,"

"What?" McCoy feigned surprise. Hannah grinned at the detailed diagram of the muscles in the hand. Still swinging her legs like a child, Hannah continued to 'read' her textbook.

"It's a textbook on anatomy. I study Bio-Med," Hannah paused, tilted her head, then reiterated. "I studi _ed_ Bio-Med." McCoy raised his eyebrow, seemingly approvingly. Hannah didn't need to look up to know that he was watching her, and so the young woman pointed turned the page, tilting her head to feign deep immersion in the text. McCoy pushed his chair back, the scraping noise filling the room with noise. "Do you mind, I'm trying to revise," She taunted lightly. McCoy threw a PADD at her. It collided with her upper arm, and Hannah looked down at it as though it had committed a great infraction against humanity.

"This might be better," He offered, yanking the textbook out of her hands. Hannah quirked an eyebrow, inviting McCoy to indulge her. "It's my anatomy notes. When I studied at Star Fleet." Hannah grinned, and picked up the rectangle of metal and glass. She inspected it slowly, tapping the screen experimentally. McCoy turned to return to his desk, and Hannah burst out in hysterics.

"What is this drawing? Is it a heart or a turd?" She giggled. McCoy spun to look at the drawing. Striding back to her, he looked at the drawing also.

"I'm a doctor not an artist," He muttered. He sulked away back in the direction of his desk for the second, only to be disturbed by another bought of laughter.

"And hooo boy, 'Commander Lewis' is not your favourite person is she?"

* * *

Spock sat alone at the table in the Mess Hall, reading something from his PADD as he ate. He was a solemn and sober looking individual, merely sat there, content with his own company. Whilst alone, he was not lonely, merely enjoying the solitude he so rarely achieved on this hectic ship. A throat cleared itself, pulling his gaze up. Hannah gave an awkward half-wave with a single hand, the other one holding a plate.

"Hi," She greeted, with a tentative smile. "It was…Spock? Right?" Her smile wavered hesitantly as Spock looked at her, curiosity seeping through his mask of calmness.

"That is my name," He confirmed. Hannah's smile returned to her face, with more certainty. She glanced down at the seat adjacent to him, and Spock, noting the glance, invited her to sit. She did so with a quick glance around the Mess Hall. Spock returned to reading his PADD, barely reading half a sentence before Hannah interrupted him again.

"Sorry," she began, chewing on the inside of her lip, clearly ill at ease with the ship. "Would you mind if I asked you a few questions- if you're busy it's completely fine, they aren't important. -Just everything here is so strange, and I-" She broke off suddenly.

"I am not busy, please, ask anything you wish," Spock allowed. Hannah visibly sagged with relief. She let out a breath that she had been unconsciously holding, and leant forwards on to the table, weigh on her elbows in a manner that would have caused her Grandmother to clip her round the ear.

"Please, if I say anything that is offensive, correct me. I don't wish to cause offence, but obviously I am not in my own time zone so if I do it is entirely accidental," She took a breath to force herself not to spray words out like vomit after a particularly dramatic night out. Spock nodded, in his characteristically formal manner. Hannah paused, opening her mouth. Then shut it abruptly. She glanced down at the meal in front of her and then asked her plate of food:

"You're not human?"

"Whilst I believe that is a statement, not a question," Spock began, Hannah winced an apology before he continued. "However, you are correct in your observation, I am not, fully, human."

"But you are partially?"

"Indeed. My mother was human, and my father, a Vulcan." Hannah nodded, as if that meant something to her. Spock decided to remove the need for her to ask her next question and began to indulge her in details of his species- down to their near extinction. Hannah stared at him in fascination as he explained his culture, his home. Amidst her wonder, she ate her meal slowly, never taking her eyes off the commander, nor listening to anything other than the rich tales he was telling her.

* * *

When Spock was finished, Hannah stared at him for a moment longer. She dragged her eyes away from this man that seemed to be familiar and yet represented everything that was different about this world she had stumbled upon. She looked across at the windows that stretched the whole length of the room. Outside there was nothing but blackness, only broken by the odd fleck of light. Suddenly, she burst out with:

"I wonder we've adapted differently,"

"Forgive me, I don't-"

"Well, obviously species of bacteria and viruses would have changed from my time to yours," Hannah explained quickly. Spock nodded curtly. "So that means you'll-and the humans on board this ship- have antibodies that are different from mine, and so diseases that are basically harmless to me might be seriously harmful to the Captain and others. And vice versa." She chirped out the facts happily, as though she had not just informed him a common cold could wipe out half the ship. Spock tilted his head, considering her musings.

"Whilst that is entirely possible, and I believe Dr McCoy will need to vaccinate you against many of our common illnesses, I doubt that you will trigger a widespread infection," He reasoned. Hannah turned back to him and laughed lightly.

"Well, we shall see," She grinned.

* * *

"What do you think of Hannah?" Kirk asked. McCoy glanced up from the monitor, briefly darting his eyes heavenwards in a silent plea to every god he knew of to allow him just five minutes without an interruption, before he returned to his monitor.

"I like her," McCoy said simply. Kirk peered at him, searching his face intensely. McCoy's head snapped up and sent a glare to Kirk that spoke all the threats he didn't speak. Kirk, immune to his friend's glower, continued to peruse his face in a hunt for a clue. McCoy closed the report that did not seem to want to be written, and turned to give Kirk his full attention. "Well, she's sarcastic, confident, and understands when I say not to touch things it means don't fiddle with and then break them." This time Kirk got the not-so-subtle hint.

"It was only a tricorder,"

"Maybe I'll _only_ break your nose," McCoy retorted under his breath. Kirk raised an eyebrow in search of more information. "What do you want me to tell you, Jim? I've known the kid all of five hours, I'm not her best friend."

"Nah. They've all been dead for what 250 years?" Chirped a voice from the doorway. Hannah leant on the wall just next to the door, and the smirk on her face told Kirk she'd heard more than enough of the conversation. "And Dr McCoy, shame on you. Do doctor-patient privileges not exist any longer?" She raised an eyebrow elegantly, causing McCoy's brow to furrow.

"You're not my patient,"

"Apparently now I am. Spock suggested I get vetted. Like a rabid dog," Hannah was evidently enjoying herself. Kirk groaned and muttered something involving the words 'another' 'metaphors' 'shoot me now'. Hannah beamed, and even McCoy smothered an amused smirk at the disgruntled Captain. Hannah handed a PADD to McCoy and he skimmed through them lightly, before beginning to rummage around for the vaccines. Hannah swiftly stole his chair. Kirk watched her with amusement, which only grew as he saw the armful of vaccines McCoy had gathered for her. Hannah's face drooped as she saw the mounting pile of vaccines.

"I hate needles," She gawked at them in fear.

"Same," Sympathised Kirk, before smirking at her. "But I've had all mine, so enjoy."


	2. Chapter 2

Having finally been allowed to shower, and wear clean clothes, Hannah massaged her arm. Vaccines were not fun, but at least McCoy had assured her none of these were likely to give her symptoms, just make her feel like crap for a few days. Her arm ached, the muscles groaning as she pulled on an oversized jumper. After all, she couldn't wear Star Fleet uniform, she wasn't a Star Fleet officer. Lucky for her, because honestly, dresses? And seemingly quite short dresses? Not really what she wanted to wear on a daily basis. Pulling her hair up off her face, she finally looked around the room she'd been designated. It was more spacious than she'd been expecting- after all she was used to her own tiny student accommodation, which barely had enough room to breath in- and once you added all her books, well, it was no room. But this had enough room for her to fell just ill at ease. Everything here was off, only the bed felt like a constant- except that was much too large. Every time she glanced at the window she expected to see city lights, or a rising sun- or some sign of civilisation. Not a vast empty void.  
Her door bleeped at her. She stared at it.

"Come in?" She questioned. The door seemed to bleep an affirmative to her, and slid open. Scotty stood in the door.

"Hello, wee lassie," He grinned. Hannah returned the gesture weakly as he entered her room. She let her legs go limp and thudded on to the bed. Then her eyes fell on the bottle in his hand.

"Is that… whiskey?" She looked up at Scotty hopefully. He nodded, his grin widening.

"Aye, I thought you might need a little something. It's no been an easy day for you," He held the bottle out towards her, and she took it gratefully.

"That," She spoke between wrenching the bottle open unceremoniously, "is an understatement."

* * *

Kirk sat his chair, fiddling with anything he could grasp his hands on. It turns out a five year mission in deep space wasn't quite as exciting as he had expected- despite the entire crew being held hostage by a former Star Fleet captain turned psychotic monster only last week, and now him accidentally stumbling through to a different timeline. He was bored of the monotonous routine he'd settled into, bored of the vastness of space. Every day felt predictable, and the recent planet-side adventures which caused the crew to gain a new member only made his more anxious for something to happen. Anything. Reflecting on the past couple of weeks, he tilted his head to the side, and mused on how the drama that unfurled between Ensigns Janeway and Cooper. That was interesting he had to admit, he had never expected them to be involved in any manner, but the stony silence that weighted the air between them since suggested something had indeed happen. And their shouting match in the middle of Engineering, well that was definitely interesting. Since starting their journey, relationships had evolved and changed, friendships become firmer and fallen apart into tatters. Perhaps Kirk just needed to remember that the day-to-day could be as exciting and challenging as fighting a fleet of Klingon war-birds could be. After all, you can't hide from someone when you're trapped on a ship with them for five years, but you can flee a fight.

"Captain," Sulu dragged the Captain out of his musings. Kirk turned his attention to Sulu and nodded for him to continue. "A Klingon ship just…ran away."

"Ran away? Is that a technical term?" Kirk formality, if he even had any, was disrupted at his amusement. Sulu shrugged.

"It's the best way to put it. It was as if they saw our ship, and just jumped straight to warp. Should we follow them?" Sulu responded, confusion emanating from him as he read over the readings he was staring at. Kirk shook his head. Despite his boredom, even Kirk was smart enough to anger Klingons. Even if they were just a single ship. And The Enterprise was vastly better equipped. No. Klingons=Bad, Kirk told himself sternly.

"No, we won't aggravate them unnecessarily," He spoke authoritatively, forcing his boredom down. "Do we know why they were so far from Klingon space?" With this final question, Kirk turned to Spock, who tapped his console a few times and then answered.

"There is a Class M planet nearby, with an abundance of local fauna and flora, but no advanced life forms," As Spock spoke, Kirk moved to look at the screen. The planet had a small label, naming itself to be Iota Germinorum IV. Kirk frowned at it as Spock continued. "However, there appears to be several items of advanced weaponry on the surface. Perhaps left by the Klingons?"

"Let's go find out,"

* * *

Hannah and Scotty were interrupted by Kirk's voice, disturbing them over the comms.

"Beep boop," murmured Hannah, as the comms made the same noise. She drank again from the glass, gulping it down and sitting cross-legged on her bed. She didn't pay attention to Scotty and Kirk's conversation until Scotty stood up. "Where are you going?" She demanded, sounding offended, if a little childish. Scotty smiled, and placed a hand on her shoulder, in an almost parental manner.

"We've come across a planet. There are… bombs on the surface. The Captain wants me on the away team to disarm them." He explained. Hannah's face lit up, like a kid at Christmas.

"A new planet? Can I come?" She chirped, hopefully. From her position, looking up at Scotty she looked so young. Sometimes it was easy to forget that all the people on this ship were really barely out of childhood- Chekov was barely 18- and here was this 20 year old girl who was looking so lost, so out of place. Yet she clung on to her childlike excitement at the opportunity of seeing new places.

"No," Scotty said softly, and Hannah's face plummeted. "Maybe next time- if you're sober."

* * *

"Took your time," Grumbled a voice as Scotty entered the transporter room, already suited up. McCoy did not look pleased at being dragged off his ship- ironic given how much he complained about space being "disease and danger wrapped up darkness and silence". Scotty merely glanced at him, and took his place on the transporter pad. Kirk looked at him.

"Everything okay?"

"Aye," Scotty answered swiftly. Hell, even his captain was only 25. "What we dealing with here?" Changing track seemed the best option right now, as the Scottish Engineer was being to feel a little emotional himself. Perhaps it was a side effect of having a kid 16 years his younger fall apart on him. Or, more probably, he'd actually drank more than he thought, and if that were the case, then he thought it best to not mention to the Captain his lack of sobriety.

"Klingon weaponry," Kirk explained. "Don't know why, but they appear to want to blow up a planet. We're going to disarm their explosives, because we can." Scotty blinked.

"Alrighty."

* * *

The planet they had landed on was beautiful. There was no other word for it, it was blooming with plant life in many colours. Bright green sprawled over the roaming hill, with pink and red flowers illuminating the ridges of hills. In the distance, a forest arched around the horizon.  
"The closest of the technology is just over this ridge, Captain," Spock informed Kirk. Kirk gestured for his first officer to lead the way.

"Hello, you cute wee fellow," Scotty picked up a small ball of fur. "I had one of you back Delta Vega."

"Scotty, is that a tribble?" Kirk asked, exasperatedly. "Put it down."

"Aye Captain, aww but it's purring!"

"But the damn ball of fur down," McCoy sniped. Scotty meekly put the tribble back down, only to discover that a whole swarm of them had surrounded his feet. He grinned at them, and petted one as he followed the Captain and the rest of the landing party up to the peak of the ridge. Kirk and Spock were already staring down at something when Scotty started moving up the hill. He could hear McCoy's characteristic moan; "Great. How are we supposed to reach something if its got a protective layer of Tribble?" Spock merely looked at them and murmured:

"Fascinating," before heading down the other side of the ridge.

* * *

"Beam us back! NOW!"

"I can't distinguish between the creatures and our crew,"

"JUST TAKE US ALL BACK, DO IT!"

* * *

Hannah opened the door to her room, only to have an abundance of tribbles pour into her room. In a drunk haze, she picked up one of the tribbles and cradled it in her arms.

"Hairy baby…" she mumbled, and sat down- still in the doorway- stroking it. She was swiftly surrounded by the furry creatures, their soft fur brushing against the limited bare skin she had on show. She ran her hands over them all, one at a time, smiling softly to herself. Some of the tribbles seemed to purr at her action, and she held the one in her arms closer to her chest, cuddling it. She closed her eyes, and suddenly she was not on a strange ship, in a strange time and surrounded by humanoid figures, that weren't quite human, but at home. She was sat in front of a fire, a cat on her lap, another by her side. She was safe. She knew this place. It was where she belonged- and she could almost hear her brothers arguing upstairs, her father in the kitchen, Frances' music blaring from her room. The tribble was tugged from her arms, and she unwillingly opened her eyes to see why. Kirk stood above her, and was gathering the tribbles up. Hannah frowned at him, and began to form words, questioning him.

"We need to take them home," He spoke softly, carefully. "After all, we don't want to accidentally kidnap something else, do we?" Hannah relinquished her hold and the tribble and shook her head. Red shirts rounded the corner, holding a bag containing some squirming tribbles. Kirk placed those he was holding into their bag, and held a hand out to Hannah, pulling her upright. He guided her into her own room, and sat her down on to her bed, and wiped away a tear that had begun to snake its way down her face. "Hey, it's okay,"

"I know," Hannah barely made a sound, she spoke so softly. "I am sorry." Kirk sat down next to her, and paused. Flirting with people, he could do easily. Comforting them? Not so much.

* * *

The next morning, Hannah's head pounded like a construction site had appeared in her brain. She wandered around like a zombie, not really sure what she was meant to be doing- it wasn't like she had a job on board The Enterprise. She decided coffee would be a good bet, and wandered towards the Mess Hall. Everyone seemed so loud this morning, so busy, and the Mess Hall was no exception. She blearily looked around for one of the few people she knew, and her gaze fell on Scotty. Staggering over to him, she walked into the back of a chair and winced. Scotty hid his laughter and she fell into the seat next to him.

"I discover a thing that makes any form of drink if you ask it to," She folded her arms on the table, and let her head rest on them.

"That'd be the replicator," Scotty told her, amused. Hannah lifted her head, and then let out a whine.

"It's bad. Bad replicator. I have no self control normally, but that just. No. Bad." Scotty laughed at her, and patted her on the shoulder. He pushed her coffee towards her, and Hannah grasped it with both hands. She tried not to gag at the smell of her hair as it fell forwards. "I feel like I remember small mammals coming into my room at one point, so you know, hallucinations-"

-"Oh no, lassie. That would have been the tribble infestation. They're tiny balls of fur. We had to cool them all down to make them hibernate so we could return them to the surface without them replicating," Scotty explained. Hannah raised her eyebrows at the coffee mug.

"Not a hallucination. Okay. Great,"

"That doesn't sound like a genuine 'great' to me, wee lassie," Scotty nudged her. "Come on, what did you do?"

"I think I threw up on your Captain,"

* * *

Kirk felt like he still smelt like sick. He wondered exactly how much Hannah had drunk to get herself into such a state. On the bright side, at least she wouldn't be able to remember his foul attempts at comforting. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed, time for another dull day, repetitive and boring. Then he remembered it was his sole day off a week. Today was the day that Spock ran his ship, and Kirk got to simply relax, do whatever he wanted to. In this case, he wanted to see exactly _how_ hungover Hannah was. And maybe he'd go see Bones for once, after all he owed his friend greatly for his help in getting rid of all the tribbles. And for not killing Spock multiple times on Altamid. And for saving his life with Khan's blood. Actually, now Kirk thought about it, he was vastly in debt to his friend. Feeling moderately guilty for half a heartbeat, Kirk shrugged off the thought and left his room. After all, it was his only day off, Bones would understand- and Kirk was sure he was still playing with the dead tribble. It had been the sole thing Spock and Bones had agreed on, well, ever, really. So, Kirk was truly doing him a favour, leaving him in peace to experiment. With that justification lingering in his thoughts, Kirk strode out of his room, in search of a hungover 20 year old.

* * *

Hannah was on her fourth coffee. The empty mugs lay on her table, littering the surface. Ah, just like home, in those long weeks of studying before finals, where sleep was no longer an option and her body was fuelled by caffeine and spite. She'd brought the PADD containing McCoy's notes from his medical studies, and, despite her mockery, she had to admit, they were pretty good. The little snippy comments he'd added were surprisingly helpful, with little jokes actually making sense of the methods that sounded so foreign to her prior to reading them.

"I think if you have anymore coffee, Dr McCoy is going to have a fit," commented a voice from above her. Hannah practically leapt out of her seat, jerking back in surprise so fervently that her coffee erupted out of the mug, spilling over her arm, and splashing to such a height that some hit Kirk in the nose. Hannah winced. Kirk wiped the coffee from his nose, and sat down opposite her.

"Sorry?" Hannah grinned sheepishly at him. "Why is McCoy going to have a fit?" Her question sounded tentative, as if she thought she might have committed a great offence.

"You do know caffeine is bad for you?" Kirk pointed to the four mug, containing dregs of coffee. "If he finds out, I'm sure you'll get a moan about how you're slowly destroying your own body." Hannah laughed lightly under her breath, thinking how her mother used to give her the same spiel about excessive consumption of caffeine. Her mother. Now that was not a road she wanted to go down, Hannah told herself sternly, she'd already cried on Kirk once, and that was one time too many. Kirk raised an eyebrow at her. "You okay?" He asked, concerning lacing his voice. Hannah blinked away the armada of tears that threatened to break the banks that were her eyelashes.

"Yeah," She shook her head lightly, and dropped her gaze to her mug. When she lifted her head again, a faint whisper of a smile tugged at her mouth. "Just that reminded me of stuff mum used to say before she left. Hey!" Her eyes brightened, and she met Kirk's gaze. "Mumma McCoy." Laughter caused the coffee in her mug to jostle around, taunting the edges with another spillage.

"Mumma McCoy," Kirk repeated, "He's going to love that."

* * *

Needless to say, McCoy did not enjoy being called 'Mumma McCoy'. He enjoyed being called 'Lenny' even less, when Hannah offered it up as an alternative. Kirk had watched their interaction with a strange feeling, that he couldn't quite place, brewing in his gut. The way that Hannah had thrown back her head- quite literally- in hysterics at McCoy's face when she called him 'Lenny' made it impossible not to join in. He had a feeling she would manage to find a home on board the Enterprise easily enough.


	3. Chapter 3

It'd been a week since Hannah had suddenly been hit with the knowledge that space travel, and alien species existed, and she had spent almost every waking hour trying to wrap her head around this new universe. She'd bombarded McCoy with questions on physiology, most of which McCoy didn't know the answers to, and had to sneakily look up whilst Hannah was distracted with something else she was trying to experiment with. She turned to Spock when there were probing questions about the universe as a whole, and she'd discovered that Uhura and Carol Marcus were really good at explaining the basics of political correctness in these societies. Uhura had offered to teach her a language, but Hannah recoiled at the memory of how terrible she'd been at French in her GCSEs, and offered a

"Maybe once I've got my head around everything else?" As a poor excuse. Chekov, whenever she asked, always gave her the answer that something was invented in Russia, and would give a lengthy explanation to her, which almost made sense. She thought maybe two? Three? Of his tales had been founded in some truth. As the exact week anniversary of her so-called kidnapping hit, Hannah was sat in Engineering on a console next to Keenser, and listening to how Scotty had scattered an Admiral's prize beagle into atoms across the whole galaxy.

"You sure it was an accident?" Hannah teased him, as Scotty concluded his story. Scotty looked up at her, faux-offence pulling his face into a frown. She laughed at his false pout for a solid five minutes, drawing the attention of several engineering officers nearby. Scotty couldn't hold his sulk, fake or otherwise, for long.

"Get down," he told her and Keenser with an amused glint sneaking into his voice, as a last-ditch attempt to stay stern. As Hannah propelled herself down on to the metal floor, a memory seemed to stir up in him. "Oh, and lassie, if you still want to visit a planet, I believe James Tiberius Perfect-Hair is beaming down to one in the next few hours if you-" He trailed off as Hannah had already started to leave Engineering, with a:

"Thank You!" Thrown over her shoulder, and a cheery wave to Keenser.

* * *

Kirk sat in his room, reading the copious amount of material on the species he was meant to be greeting, and made a mental note never to ask Spock what he knew about a species ever again. The noise of the door interrupted him, and Kirk thanked the stars for the distraction- the text was so boring, it was so much effort to trudge through it all.

"Come in," he called without looking up. Hannah practically skipped into his room. She pushed her elbows on to his desk, resting her chin in her hands. Kirk deliberately slowly raised his head to look at her.

"I hear you're visiting a planet," She announced, grinning hopefully at him. Kirk raised an eyebrow.

"Yes…" He began, warily. Hannah's grin widened further.

"Can I come?" She practically begged. Kirk paused, and before he could say anything else she continued in a rush. "Please, come on, I want to do something- at least all you guys have jobs and shit to do, I'm just sat on my arse all day, getting in the way and trying to understand what the hell is going on-" She caught a breath, and Kirk opened his mouth to reply, but again, she cut him off in a flurry of words. "-I just want to do something, I know I'll be as useless and in the way on the planet, but I promise I won't speak or do anything unless you tell me to, I just want to explore, because this is so exciting and I-" She suddenly cut off, as she stood up, and paced around Kirk's quarters a few steps. Kirk, taking advantage of the brief silence, shoved his chair back inelegantly, as he stood to speak to her.

"I don't think it'd be a good idea," He began, only to be disturbed by the door for a second time. Shutting his eyes in exasperation, he groaned out a; "Come in." Hannah normally would have laughed at the dull, flatness of his voice, yet this time she was still trying to conjure ways to let her go down on to the planet with Kirk, because honestly, she needed to do something or she was going to go insane. Spock entered the room in a manner that was the complete reverse of Hannah's actions- instead of bounding around, full of energy, Spock was straight backed and calm, hands clasped lightly behind his back as he greeted the Captain respectfully. Hannah largely didn't listen to their conversation, but began to as she realised, if she could get Spock on her side, Kirk wouldn't be able to come back with a solid argument to refute her desperate plea.

"Captain, it is crucial that you convince them to join the Federation, Commodore Paris was insistent. Their space travel may be limited, however, their medicinal knowledge could-"

"I could accompany Captain Kirk," Hannah offered with a feign of innocence. Spock turned to her, facing away from the Captain, and so oblivious to him rolling his eyes and proceeding to slouchy and silently moan to the ceiling. Spock raised his eyebrow, and Hannah continued, calmly. "I merely thought, as I am recently acquainted with space travel, and the Federation, then perhaps I would be able to empathise with the native species, and answer their more basic questions. You are aware of the extent of my knowledge, and I simply thought it might be prudent for me to provide explanations, as everyone else on board this ship has grown up in this society, and may miss important factors that seem obvious to yourselves."  
Silence fell in the Captain's quarters as Spock pondered her speech. Hannah delicately sat down on the arm of Kirk's couch, and waited for Spock's answer. Kirk glared at Hannah, but swiftly smoothed his expression into a neutral one as Spock turned to him. Hannah briefly stuck her tongue out at the Captain.

"Captain, her logic is sound. I would advise you accept her offer."

"Fine. If she insists,"

* * *

Hannah spun in her seat in the shuttle. Given that she didn't understand, well, anything, of the readings, she'd taken to guessing what everything was. She seemed to bounce around the shuttle, even whilst sat still, just something about her manner gave off the impression of pure energy. Child-like excitement fuelled her glee, and she hadn't stopped grinning yet. She reminded Kirk of a puppy. And she reminded him of why he loved space. All those new places to explore- new things to see, new species to meet and learn about. He smiled to himself and Hannah did not miss the expression.

"You're smiling- see you're not entirely objected to me being here!" Hannah chirped. Puppy and a baby bird. Kirk smiled, and turned his head partially towards her, though his gaze remained firmly on the consoles in front of him.

"I didn't _not_ want you to come," Kirk objected. Hannah narrowed her eyes at him. "Okay, maybe I didn't want you to come. But that was mostly because I thought you'd be disappointed in what you saw." Hannah scoffed, looking back out of the window.

"You could show me Cardiff, and I'd be excited, Kirk," She leant forwards to get a better look out the window. "This is amazing." Pausing for a heartbeat, Hannah glanced at Kirk, as they entered the atmosphere of the planet. "Thank you."

"For what?" Kirk frowned. Hannah opened her mouth, but was not given the opportunity to answer, as the whole shuttle lurched forwards and seemingly lost all power, as it plunged towards the very-solid looking earth below.

"Kirk to Enterprise!"

They were given no answer as they plunged towards the ground below.

* * *

The shuttle didn't have the luxury of trees to slow its descent, and so it crashed into the ground with terrifying force. Leaving behind an elongated crater in its wake, the hull scraped across the ground, progressively slowing down. Both of its passengers were unconscious, but somehow alive as the shuttle dragged to a halt. Their heads flopped forwards in sync, and there they remained.

* * *

"Commander, we just lost contact with the shuttle," Sulu turned to look at Spock. "I think they're thrusters cut out just before we lost contact."

* * *

Hannah groggily returned to consciousness, her lids weighted down, and unwilling to open. She dragged her head upright, forcing her aching neck muscles into action. Hannah suppressed a groan, pain rippling through her entire frame.

"Kirk?" She mumbled. Silence, except for a buzzing haunting Hannah's ears. She forcibly pushed herself into a standing pose- pushing down on the console in front of her to convince her limbs into action. "Kirk?" She called again, worry lacing into the single word she spoke. She rushed over to him, crouching in front of him. He didn't respond to her pressing her fingers into his neck, hastily checking for a pulse. She breathed a sigh of relief when pressure pushed on to her fingertips below the artery. Blood trailed down his face, originating from a small cut on his forehead. Hannah lightly brushed a thumb over it, and swiftly dismissed it, too shallow to elicit concern. It was then she noticed the seeping blood through his shirt.

"How the hell did you get cut there?" She mumbled under her breath.

"Must be luck," Kirk answered, blearily opening his eyes to look down at her. Hannah blinked, having not expected a response. She glanced up at him, and then lifted his shirt to inspect his wound, without a word. Her face remained expressionless, and she grabbed Kirk's own hand with one of her own. Pushing the wound together with one hand, and pulled Kirk's hand over hers.

"Hold this together," She ordered, and stood up, scanning the shuttle bay for a med kit of any kind. She found one, and swiftly released that she didn't know how to use any of the equipment. "Fuck it," she grumbled, and ripped open a bag she'd brought with her. Grasping a make-shift miniature trauma kit she had on her, she muttered under her breath something utterly incomprehensible.

"What's that?" Kirk mumbled. Hannah returned to her crouched position in front of Kirk, and didn't answer him, only looked at the cut, digging into his midsection. Pulling out some thread and a surgical needle, she finally answered him ambiguously.

"You're lucky my last lecture was with Fletch," She glanced at him, as she stuck the thread through the eye of the needle. And paused. Leaning back slightly, she looked back up at him, an apology welling in her eyes. "Sorry," She winced, removing Kirk's hand from the wound. Kirk barely formed his question, when Hannah daintily pressed the needle through his skin.

* * *

The Enterprise was still hanging around, just out of orbit of the planet. There was no better term for it, as that was all they were doing, whilst McCoy and Spock argued over what to do- did they go attempt to get the Captain back or not. Scotty had said they weren't going to be able to beam down, hence why Kirk and Hannah had taken a shuttle in the first place, something about geographic interference making it impossible.

"um, Enterprise?" A voice echoed over the comms. "Anybody hear me?"

"You're alive," McCoy merely sounded surprised, not pleased, just pleasantly surprised.

"No shit," The drawling tone emanated sarcasm so fiercely that McCoy felt a spark of pride. It was like having another him around, but, a happier version of him.

"Is the Captain injured?' Spock asked, turning away from McCoy. When Hannah replied, listing off Kirk's injuries and Hannah's make-shift treatment of them. She then began whining about the shuttle shutting down on them.

"Can you tell what the mechan-"

"It wasn't a mechanical fault. A fault would give off an alarm or alert of some kind, right?" She spoke with conviction, and didn't wait for a confirmation before continuing. "We had none, just everything shut down one at a time- including life support, I'm guessing 'cos both of us were briefly unconscious, and I have no memory of the actual impact." She explained herself quickly, but surprisingly calmly, as if she were a doctor giving a diagnosis to another medical professional. That was until Spock asked to speak to the Captain, and Hannah suddenly realised he was slipping from consciousness. Panic then flooded her tone, and she shut the communicator, cutting off the Enterprise's only link to the stranded away team.

* * *

"Stay," Ordered Hannah, sounding as though she were talking to a stray puppy, not her captain. Kirk stood up, having to lean on the control panel to be able to drag himself upright. Trying desperately to keep his face neutral, he looked down on her, and spoke:

"I'm not letting you go out there on your own," he protested. Hannah cocked an eyebrow, and placed a hand on her hip, in a stereotypically disapproving fashion. Pausing for a moment, she stared down her captain, then strode forwards two steps to him. She removed her hand from her hip, placing it on Kirk's shoulder, and inelegantly forced him down into his seat.

"You," she said, authoritatively, narrowing her eyes mocking. "are staying right here. In this chair. Whilst I go see if I can find anyone. I will a communicator, I will talk to you the whole time- and you better talk back because if you lose consciousness again, bitch I will cut you." Kirk's eyes widened on the last sentence.

"And after you sowed me up so neatly," he commented. "Seems like it would be a waste to simply reopen it." Hannah let her gaze drop from his eyes, and leant close to him.

"Who's says I'd reopen that cut? I might, remove something?" She taunted, and then spun and strode out of the shuttle. Kirk groaned, and twisted in his chair, trying to get comfortable. Hannah quickly darted back into the shuttle.

"Don't you dare leave," She growled at Kirk.

* * *

Hannah gazed around in wonder, loving the differences between this world and everything she knew of Earth- the ground-level plant life that covered this planet wasn't grass, at least not as she knew grass. It was spongey, more like a moss than a grass, and huge deep purple blossoms hung from large woody plant, and Hannah reached out to brush her fingers through it. The blossoms flowed like silk over her fingertips and she barely resisted a grin.

"This is amazing," she murmured. She spun around, looking back towards where she had come from. The course left by the shuttle formed a grotesque scar in the landscape that was otherwise unmarred from harm. The scarring revealed the scarlet soil, scraping through to the deep blue that formed the most common stone of the planet. Hannah winced at the sight of the impact, almost apologising for the damage, before turning back around. She flipped open the communicator, and spoke directly into it:

"Kirk, you still alive?"

"No. I died of boredom." Hannah smirked at Kirk's response. He sounded like a little kid left at home whilst his parents went shopping.

"Well, in that case, Kirk's ghost, there's a hill in front of me, I'm gonna climb to the top of it and see if I can get a better look at this place." She was already walking up the incline as she spoke, and laughing at the sulking of Kirk.

"Hurry up,"

* * *

Hannah bounded back into the shuttle, and grinned at the rapidity of motion at which Kirk's head whipped to look at her.

"I found a cityyyy," Hannah sang. Kirk's face lit up, and Hannah nodded excitedly. "Yup! And they held me at gun point!" Kirk frowned at her. He tilted his head to peer at her.

"Why do you say that like it's a good thing?" He asked hesitantly, questioning Hannah's sanity, yet again. She beamed, somehow even wider than before.

"Because that means that they think I might be a threat. Do you know how exciting that is?" She chirped. "I was _threatening._ I am normally the damsel in distress in everyone's eyes, not the _THREAT!"_ She threw her hands in the air, dancing in glee. Her voice rose on the last word, and she jumped in the air, skipping, and grinning slightly maniacally. She stopped skipping, and skidded on to the floor next to Kirk, and crossed her legs. She lightly grasped at the hem of his shirt, lifting her eyes to his in a question. Kirk nodded wearily. Hannah didn't change her expression as she lifted his shirt and inspected her makeshift stitches. She lightly brushed a hand over the skin just above the cut, Kirk flinched slightly at her cold hands.

"Sorry, just trying to see how inflamed your wound is," She apologised. Hannah then stood, and inspected the cut on his forehead. Kirk lightly pushed her away after a few seconds.

"I am fine," He insisted, drawing his hand back from her stomach. "Tell me about the city."

"Well you're in luck, they have transporter capabilities, so we can go back to the ship, and figure out why our shuttle shut down unexpectedly." She reported, matter of factly. "And Spock said they're amazing healers, so maybe they'll have a better idea of how to deal with your wound." Kirk struggled upright, and leant on the control panel, before forcing himself to stand.

"Lead the way,"


	4. Chapter 4

Their hosts apologised once again, apparently they seemed unable to stop apologising Hannah noted internally.

"We were not expecting two visitors, and we're afraid we only have the one room tailored to your needs," The lead individual bowed his head, and gestured at the door. Kirk assured him that the room was fine, and that he appreciated the extent to which they had made an effort for himself and Hannah. Hannah peered into the room, surveying it, and noting the singular, small bed.

"Forgive me, Captain," She began, faking a formality that did not come naturally to her. "But you really need to have that wound treated, and Spock did say that our hosts have an excellent capability for medicine…" She trailed off and looked at the creature before her hopefully. It was a huge reptilian creature- the smallest was easily over 6 feet tall- with greying green scales covering its flesh. Bizarrely, however, its elongated limbs did not end in the sharp claws and talons that Hannah expected, but digits not dissimilar to her own fingers. The Gorn looked her in the eye, with its large misty white globes that functioned as eyes.

"We have not encountered your physiology, I do not wish to promise an ability to heal, when we may not be able to," He spoke slowly, cautiously. Kirk began to dismiss Hannah's concern, but Hannah whacked his arm, and spoke over him.

"Of course, I understand. I was merely wondering if you would allow me access to your supplies to see if you possess suitable antiseptics, as I'm concerned his wound is going to get infected- and we wouldn't want to get blood poisoning, now would we _Captain_?" Hannah turned to look pointedly at Kirk. He caved, and allowed her to persuade the Gorn to treat Kirk.

* * *

They'd spent the day in different parts of the city, Kirk talking to the politicians, military leaders and anyone in anyway important in this city. He was told of their ongoing war with the Metrons- whom a general suggested had developed weaponry able to shut down their shuttle mid-flight. Whilst Hannah spent the day in a hospital, talking to the doctors about their means of treatment, about the Gorn's physiology and about Human physiology. She found some hydrogen peroxide, the closest thing to an antiseptic, and asked to borrow it- and was freely given it, for they did not use it except as a basic pain killer. As it was readily available, and not a crucially needed part of the medical store, the Gorn showing her around handed her far more than she could ever use. Hannah had loved visiting the hospital, asking the patients every question she could think of.

* * *

When they both returned to the room, neither of them seemed to be able to form words. Hannah was taken aback at the sheer difference of this world to what she knew, but the basic core of the issues had remained the same. War, disease, corruption, it was all the issues she knew from home. They both stood in the room, fiddling with something that did not need fiddling with, trying to look as though they were doing something to break the suddenly uncomfortable silence. Hannah began to braid her hair, and sank into an armchair in the corner of the room. She watched Kirk aimlessly wander around the room, and finally dragged something from the depths of her memories to talk about.

"Have you told Spock we're still alive?"

"Yeah, talked to him just before I came back."

"Oh."

Silence loomed over them once more. Hannah was rapidly running out of hair. Kirk had run out of things to shuffle, poke and move. Except for the bag Hannah had insisted on taking with her- the bag which had probably saved his life. He toyed with the idea of searching around inside it, but instead sat on the bed, and inspected her needlework.

"Silk." Kirk started, and turned to look at Hannah. She flushed and continued; "The stitches. It's silk, it was all I had. I had just had a lecture on the different types of material to use for different sutures." The pink faded from her cheeks, and she looked down at the floor. Discomfort filled the air between them. Hannah sat on the opposite side of the bed to Kirk, and didn't look up from the cool grey of the floor. Staring intensely at the swirls of lighter greys, and flecks of shining silver, she took a controlled breath.

"Thank you," Kirk looked over at Hannah's back. Her face remained turned away from him as she asked why. "You've probably saved my life at least twice on this away mission." Hannah's eyebrow twitched upright on the word 'probably', but she didn't call Kirk out on his use of it. She merely nodded to the floor, and dismissed it;

"It was nothing,"

* * *

During the night, Hannah must have migrated to the chair, for when Kirk woke up, he was alone on the bed. Kirk blinked himself into wakefulness, and stretched his back as he pushed himself upright. As his eyes focused, he was able to see her curled up on the chair, back facing him. He forced himself up off the bed, and scrambled back into his Star Fleet uniform, trying not to make too much noise, so to not wake the sleeping girl on the chair, curled in a pose that was almost cat-like. Kirk moved to leave the room, but paused just before leaving the room. He turned back, and walked towards Hannah, and gently, carefully lifted her up. She stirred slightly in her sleep, but didn't wake. Kirk moved her across to the bed, and placed her in it. Hannah rolled over in it, and squirmed into a comfortable position, causing the t shirt she wore to ride up, exposing her bare back. Kirk lightly pulled the thin cover up over her, his eyes falling on the scar that trailed across her lower back. He let the cover fall, covering the white scar tissue and left the room soundlessly.

* * *

When Hannah woke to an empty room, in the bed she _knew_ she hadn't gone to sleep in, she stared around the room in puzzlement. She hadn't moved from waking, and threw the cover off her body. Only when the air chilled her lower back did she realise it was not covered by her t shirt anymore, and quickly tugged the t shirt back down over it. Rubbing her eyes wearily, she sat upright and blinked into the room, now flooded with light. Her eyes protested at the bright white spilling into the room, but not quickly as much as her feet objected to the stone floor. All heat was seeped from the soles of her feet in the brief moment they touched the floor, before Hannah swiftly recoiled them, bringing them up on to the protection from the bad, cold floor.

* * *

"Bad," she glowered at the floor, sternly telling it off for daring to be cold. Kirk laughed from the doorway, causing Hannah to leap off the bed in alarm. This only made Kirk laugh harder. Hannah pouted, and let out a shaky breath, telling her heart rate to 'please calm down'- this time, only internally. Kirk lounged against the doorway, his hair still mussed from sleep, despite him having been awake for hours. Chaotic good, thought Hannah, as she crossed her arms at the Captain.

"Morning," Kirk smirked. Hannah didn't respond to him, but pulled a small jar out of her bag, and tossed it to him.

"You should disinfect your stitches," She told him tonelessly, "Forgot to give you it last night." A collection of what appeared to be cotton wool pads swiftly followed the jar, and Kirk caught them just as easily. He looked at the two items in his hand, and did not move. Hannah rolled her eyes, and strode around the bed, taking them back from his hands.

* * *

"The Gorn have offered to transport us back to The Enterprise, as soon as you're ready," Kirk told Hannah, as she dabbed at the scabbing wound on his abdomen. Hannah looked up at him, and then returned her gaze to the wound in front of her.

"When I woke up, I thought you had." She spoke quietly. Kirk frowned.

"Thought I had, what?" He asked, confusion marring his face. Hannah hesitated, her hand wavering a few millimetres above Kirk's cut.

"Gone." She said simply. "I thought you might have just gone back to The Enterprise, and just left me here." Kirk's head snapped down to look at her sharply.

"Why the hell would I do that?" His voice wasn't abrasive, only surprised. Perhaps a little offended that Hannah thought so lowly of him. "You're part of our crew now, and we don't leave behind our crew." Hannah stared stoically at Kirk's healing slash wound, and lightly pressed her fingers into the skin around it, for no other reason but to appear to be doing something. Despite her best efforts, a ghost of a smile haunted her face. Her mouth remained as still and emotionless as before, but there was a humour that lit her eyes which she could not control. Kirk frowned at her.

"Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind," Hannah mumbled, under her breath, just out of earshot of Kirk. She lifted her hand off Kirk's abdomen, and pushed herself upright. Standing, she twitched an eyebrow at Kirk and spoke, audibly this time, "Well, if you're ready to go back to the ship, I am."

* * *

The Captain must have looked worse than he felt, for the moment her materialised on the transporter pad, McCoy groaned. He grabbed Kirk by the arm, and seemed to drag him to the Med Bay.

"Bones, get off my arm." Kirk spoke utterly deadpan, only mild irritation creeping into his voice.

"No. You wouldn't let me last time, so this time you don't have a choice," McCoy almost sounded like a petulant child.

"You do have a chunk of flesh missing from your stomach," Hannah chirped helpfully. Kirk tried restrain his amused grin at her falsely innocent smile.

"You have what?" McCoy spluttered. "How do you manage to get a bigger injury each time?"

Hannah's grin broadened. McCoy's grip on Kirk's arm tightened. He tugged him towards the door, and let go of his arm, pushing him lightly through the doorway. Glaring suspiciously at his captain, McCoy made Kirk walk in front of him to the Med Bay, as though he was ensuring the captain didn't try to run away to the Bridge. Spock dutifully followed them. As the doors slid shut Hannah heard McCoy ask tauntingly:

"So did this go better or worse than the encounter with the Teenaxians?" And then the doors shut, and she was alone.

* * *

She was still alone the walk back to the room she had been assigned- it still didn't feel like it deserved the title of 'her' room. It didn't belong to her, nothing here belonged to her. She didn't belong to anything here either. She felt like an invading virus, or a bacterial infection. Diseased, unwelcome and probably f-cking weird. Her solution was to blast music as loudly as she possibly could, and dance manically, singing along badly out of tune. She kept the music blaring as she showered. She kept dancing as she showered.

She stopped forcing herself to fake happiness. Sat in the wash of the shower, the water pouring over her face, she slid down the wall and let herself fall into a mounting despair. The tears mingled with the water on her face, the music drowned her silent sobs. Her hair fell forwards, clouding her face, and she hugged her knees to her chest. Hannah didn't move from this position for well over an hour.

* * *

Kirk was finally allowed free of the Med Bay, and immediately returned to the Bridge. Returning to his chair, he smiled slightly. Ah, home, sweet home. He leant back in his chair, and looked over his crew. Despite the monotony of the ship's life, Kirk did love being in this seat, being part of this crew- it felt like the only place he ought to be. Even now, as they seemed to merely be drifting through space with no distinct destination, or direction, there was a bizarre form of purpose to their wandering into the unknown. Exploring for no other reason than to explore, to find new things to discover. It was both exciting, a little terrifying and surprisingly, not any more dangerous than the charted space they had previously explored. Suddenly, the entire ship juddered, throwing Kirk out of his reverie- and nearly out of his chair.

"What just happened?" He asked the room at large. Spock, Uhura and Chekov all began to press various keys on their consoles.

"We just dropped out of warp," stated Sulu, "I don't know why-"

"Not this again," mumbled Kirk under his breath. "Scotty," He called, sounding almost bored.

"I didnae do this Captain!" Scotty protested over the comms. "I don't know what did! There's no damage I can see down here."

Another jolt shook the Enterprise, and the crew all swayed with the impact. Kirk looked around the Bridge.

"Is there any damage? Any crews near us? Anomalies? Anything?" He demanded. Uhura began to tap at her console even more frantically.

"There is a distortion off our starboard hull- it could be a cloaked ship, but I've never seen anything like this."

* * *

McCoy swayed on his chair, and glanced up as the door opened to the Med Bay. Hannah sauntered into the Med Bay, and jumped on to the nearest bed. She pushed back her still-drying hair out of her eyes, and even from his distance, McCoy could see the redness that ringed her eyes.

"Sounds like we're all gonna die," Hannah commented, crossing her legs on the bed, and swaying with the impact. "Figured maybe you'd want some help in case every member of the crew comes hobbling in with some kind of injury." McCoy raised an eyebrow.

"I have a feeling we're going to need your help," He commented dryly. "Though if you could avoid practising your needlework on the crew this time, that would be helpful." Hannah, maturely, stuck her tongue out at McCoy, and folded her arms. McCoy smirked at her scowl, and then sat down on the next alongside her.

"I thought I handled the situation aptly given the limited resources."

"You had an entire trauma kit in the shuttle," McCoy raised an eyebrow. Hannah frowned. She threw her arms up and cried:

"How was I supposed to know how to use it!" She spluttered, indignation edging her voice. McCoy only laughed at her childlike sulk. Shaking his head incredulously, he sighed at her.

"Come on, get up. You'll be taking up room that our thousands of casualties will need." Hannah groaned comically as she threw herself off the bed. She intended only to slide and roll off it on to the floor, but she made her legs go limp, the ship lurched yet again, and she was flung to the floor. She told the ship to stop being so inconsiderate and rude, sternly wagging a finger at the wall.

* * *

The Med Bay had filled, emptied and then filled again, with a constant influx of crew members, flowing and ebbing like the tides. And much like the sea, they wreaked havoc on the Med Bay. Pillows had been moved around to support broken bones, blood pooled on the floor. Much of the equipment had been tossed around, some tricorders lying abandoned on the floor. The only constants in the room were McCoy, Hannah and a handful of the medical staff, though many of them had become patients themselves, and even more of them had been sucked out of the ship, never to be seen again. A hull breach on Deck 7 had followed a control panel exploding, and when McCoy had sent some of the medics to go deal with it, they had been caught in the vacuum that drew them out into space. There was no chance of them surviving. When he'd heard of the next exploding console, he was hesitant to send out even more people, for fear of losing all of his staff, but he hadn't expected the recklessness of his newest acquaintance in the Med Bay. Hannah had seen his pause, and miss a beat. She swiftly injected her patient, and turned and strode out of the door. McCoy didn't have time to worry about her, as some engineering officers staggering into the Med Bay, and tried to push any concern out of his mind. It transpired his worry was unnecessary, as less than two minutes later, Hannah returned, with Cupcake's arm forced over her shoulder. His ankle closest to her was limp, and he clenched his jaw with every step, yet still insisted on telling the "little girl" that he was fine. Hannah didn't respond, and shoved him on to the closest chair, and grasped his ankle firmly between her hands. Cupcake stifled a cry.

* * *

A ship suddenly materialised on the view screen, and exploded in a supernova of red and gold. The explosion filled their view, and decorated the vast blackness with nothing but pain and death. The bridge was silent. Uncertain of what to make of this surprise attack, of the ship that evaded their sensors until the moment of their demise. Kirk pushed himself upright, and walked towards the view screen.

"Scotty, we're going to beam aboard some of the debris, think you could identify who the ship belonged to?" He asked. Scotty answered in the affirmative, albeit amongst sounds of panic and rushing.

"Could we maybe fix the ship first, Captain?" Scotty answered back, almost insubordinate in his strained voice. Kirk apologised and said he'd give him the time he needed.

"Damage report," Kirk turned to Spock, who listed off hull breaches on several decks, multiple system failures and power drainage. With each new thing Spock listed, Kirk's face darkened further, sorrow, anger and fear clouding his brow. Spock's list lasted a full two minutes, and spanned through engineering through to the mess hall, and to Med Bay. Even the life support was damaged on Deck 5, which Kirk noticed with horror, was where Med Bay was located. Injured personnel were going to soon suffer even more health issues, when all the oxygen in the air had vanished.


	5. Chapter 5

The oxygen levels on Deck 5 were critically low, with patients having transitions through from groggy, flat out into unconscious. McCoy struggled to move between them, desperately trying to keep them awake, or at least fit some kind of oxygen mask over their faces. Hannah seemed to be still moving as normal- slightly slower, and huffing slightly, but not struggling as much as McCoy. She lithely fitted masks upon the faces of all of the remaining patients, and to the medical staff in the med bay.

"You… need…" McCoy struggled to form the words between his gasped breaths, as he leant against the wall heavily, pushing the mask Hannah held out to him back towards her.

"I'm fine," she choked out, and pushed it over his face. "Going- help," She gestured to the door and moved towards it with deliberate slow movement. She headed out and started towards the turbo lift. She got half way down the corridor and began to struggle to move. Sweat had begun to trickle down her forehead, and she dragged her feet along the ground to get to the turbo lift. The doors opened when she was still several feet away, and a figure stepped out. Hannah could barely see the humanoid, as her eyesight crumbled away into darkness in her peripheral vision.

"Life support," she gasped, "gone. He..hel… help"

* * *

Hannah came to in the Med Bay, and the pain in her throat was an all too familiar sensation. The air burned as she wheezed in a shallow breath. Her eyes still clouded at the edges, she could barely distinguish the figures also in the Med Bay. Sitting up, she tried to get a better look before being pushed back down on to the bed.

"Oh no you don't," scolded McCoy, his hand firmly pressing into her shoulder. Hannah turned her head as far as she could, both twisting her shoulders around to look the CMO in the eye. He was not, as she had expected, standing alongside her bed, but lying in the bed next to her. "If I'm bedridden, you definitely are." Whilst his breathing was deeper than Hannah's, it was also shaky, and the rattle of uncertain breaths hovered in his breathing. However, Hannah's breathing was recovering far faster than his. Her wheeze was fading, and she pushed his hand off her shoulder, and looked around the Med Bay. Uhura was wielding a medical tricorder, and inspecting the medical staff, looking mildly confused at the instrument in her hand. Hannah swung her legs off the bed, and tentatively stood up. Blood rushed out of her head, and wooziness over took her mind. Yet she stood still for a moment, allowed it to subside a little, and then moved cautiously to pick up a tricorder herself.

"How-?" McCoy began to ask, as Hannah ran the tricorder over his chest, holding it no more than two inches above him. Hannah briefly glanced at McCoy's face, meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second, which was all he needed to see the pain that hid beneath her churlish attitude.

"I've had a lot of practice."

* * *

"All systems returning to normal, Keptin." Chekov announced. Kirk acknowledged the ensign and sat down in his chair, having finished his angsty fidgeting.

"Scotty, how's the repairs?" He asked, leaning back in the chair, his mind whirring.

"We've stabilised the warp core, Captain, and main power is back on line, but I wouldnae advise going to warp just yet." The Scot spoke quickly over the comms, before speaking away, his voice fainter but distinctly directing someone to another part of the ship. "Captain, main power isn't fully restored yet, so please don't get into a fight with someone else," Scotty's voice whined. Kirk suppressed a smile, and shook his head minutely.

"Since you asked, Mr Scott, I'll do my best," He promised. "Sulu, let's keep moving. Full impulse ahead."

"Yes sir."

* * *

They had trudged through the open space uneventfully for several hours, and Kirk decided to risk leaving the bridge. Praying no more of the cloaked ships appeared and started to attack them, he headed towards the Mess Hall. He needed coffee. Lots of coffee. Stepping in to the turbo lift, he suppressed a yawn, and raised a hand to his face. He pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose, and moved his hand to rub the palm of his hand over his eye. He was exhausted. He felt as though he'd been running flat out for days- which, come to think of it, he had. The doors to the turbo lift opened, and the Captain pressed another yawn down, not allowing it the satisfaction of breaking. He wandered in through the doors, and retrieved his coffee. Clutching to the mug as though it were a life line, Kirk scanned the room for a seat. It seemed every off duty crew member had had the same idea as him, and almost every taken table had all its seats taken. Except one, which only seated two people, Hannah and an engineering officer named Kes. They were talking animatedly, about what Kirk never got the opportunity to find out, as the two women fell oddly silent as he approached.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked, a genuine question.

"Of course not-"

-"Yes. Immensely." The two women answered in unison. Kes looked at Hannah in horror. Refusing a senior officer was unspeakable in her opinion. Hannah stared, emotionlessly at the Captain, both her face broke into a grin, and she pushed a leg of the chair opposite her out, a clear invitation for the Captain to sit. He laughed softly at her, but sat in the chair none-the-less. A pause.

"So," Hannah spoke, deliberately slow and awkward. "We all nearly died today- does this kind of thing happen often, because it seems like it does." She sat back in her chair, pressing a foot against the table leg, and rocking back in her chair. Kes laughed at her coffee.

"More often on this ship than most I think," she answered. Then she looked up at the captain, and her eyes widened. "Not that I'm- I didn't mean- Nothing to do with manage- Kirk good captain! I've gotta- go. Over there. Fix things. Engineer stuff." And she fled the table, leaving behind her coffee. Which Hannah immediately stole, having already finished her own. Kirk tapped on the table.

"I think she's scared of me," He grinned. Hannah grinned back at him.

"Scared? Of you? Nahhhh," She laughed. "You're just one big softie, aren't you?" Kirk shrugged with a smile back at her, as if in agreement. Hannah's grin widened.

* * *

Across the Mess Hall, Carol Marcus watched the easy laughter than passed between the Captain and the young woman. Unlike most of the crew on board The Enterprise, Hannah didn't seem to be afraid to defy his authority. Without Star Fleet training, she ignored the hierarchy of the ship, and whilst this irritated Carol a little, she more admired the girl for her resilience. Having just lost her own father, she couldn't fathom the loss Hannah had to deal with, and so if blatant disregard for authority was how she coped, then that worked for Carol. She looked over at the Captain and the slightest pangs of jealousy rippled through her, whilst she currently didn't care or want a relationship with Kirk- at least, so she thought- the ease in which he had laughed with her was not something Carol had witnessed Kirk do before. Even with McCoy, he tended to deliver more flat one-liners as his humour, a twitch of a lip signalling his amusement, not often a full scale laugh. But there he was, practically giggling over who-knows what.

"Carol, you're staring," Uhura spoke flatly. "Have you not learnt anything of Kirk's reputation from Christine?"

Apparently not, Carol thought glumly. She turned back to Uhura, and tried to push any thoughts of Kirk out of her head.

* * *

Kirk walked back towards Hannah's room with her, a comfortable silence cocooning them.

"How's the cut?" Hannah asked, breaking the quiet.

"According to Bones it's as healed as it will ever be. I think he was a little intimidated by your needlework," Kirk laughed. His hand brushed against his own stomach, feeling the slight raise of a scar through the thin material. Hannah smiled slightly, letting her head fall forwards slightly, and the thick waves of brown hair tumbling to hide her face.

"What can I say, my parents were old fashioned, they taught me embroidery," She spoke with a smile in her voice, and kept her gaze to the floor. Kirk paused, an eyebrow lifting itself of its own accord, and his unspoken question hung in the air. Hannah looked back up, stopping walking and looked at Kirk, incredulously. "That was a joke. I'm from the 21st century, not the Victorian era." Kirk's question seemingly answered, he then voiced a different one.

"Well if your parents didn't teach you embroidery, then what did they teach you?" He asked.

"Not much. They sent me off to a private school the first chance they got. All my dad taught me was sarcasm and deadpan humour, and my mum taught me how to fight," She answered, lightly. Her heart grew heavy talking about her parents, remembering how her mother always seemed to have a quarrel with everything. How she'd never accept gifts, how she would always take care of Hannah and her siblings when they were ill, but never would mollycoddle them.

"You went to a private school?" Kirk probed. Hannah nodded, before continuing.

"Aye, all of us did. From my oldest brother Xander, down to wee Mairi. We were at George Watson's, then Dad died, and mum couldnae afford it anymore. I got a scholarship, but Xander and David weren't the brightest at the best of times, so they got kicked out. They let wee Mairi stay though, I think it was a pity thing," Hannah paused. "Mine too, when I think about it." Kirk's faint smile started to fade slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"I had an 'extenuating circumstance' for my National 5's, then we moved to England and they had a connection with a private School down there which also gave me a scholarship, and I did my A-Levels with special dispensation. I think those are what gave me the special dispensation."

"Do I ask what the circumstances were?" Kirk asked tentatively, as they reached Hannah's door. She opened it, stepped inside and then smirked at him.

"Google me. I made worldwide news for it."

* * *

When Kirk returned to his quarters, he took Hannah up on her threat, and looked her up. His eyes grew wide as he read further into the article. Multiple times he moved away from his desk, leaving the PADD behind, before being drawn back towards it and having to continue reading. It read like fiction, it was so bizarre and traumatic. He sat down on the couch in his room, and began reading yet more intensely. This Hannah couldn't be the right Hannah, not the one that was on board this ship. For she didn't seem to be capable of acting like this. A beep rang through his room, alerting him to someone being stood on the other side of the door. Kirk closed the PADD and threw it on the couch.

"Come in,"

Scotty entered his room. Holding a PADD loosely in his hand, he lifted it part way, as if to alert Kirk that he was holding something in his hand.

"The damage report Captain, I think everything's back to working at its optimum," Scotty spoke as he handed over the PADD.

"Oh, yes. Thank you," Kirk spoke curtly, and took it from the Chief Engineer. "We're able to travel at warp again?"

"Aye captain, but I'd like to recommend we stop on the nearest planet we can to restock on dilithium crystals. We cannae get home on the amount we have now," Scotty spoke hesitantly, knowing obtaining dilithium crystals was not an easy task, yet a necessary one. Kirk suppressed a groan, and merely acknowledged Scotty's request. Scotty paused hesitantly in the captain's room for a moment longer.

"What is it, Scotty?" Kirk asked, turning away from him, and beginning to read the PADD.

"Well, I just thought it might be… I thought I should let you handle the situation instead of Spock or myself,"

"What situation?"

"Hannah punched a security officer," He spoke quickly. "We sent him to the Med Bay, but he's probably just exaggerating, you know what Hendorff is like-"

"Cupcake?" Kirk asked incredulously. "She punched _Cupcake_ hard enough to actually injure him?"

"Aye,"

"Impressive," Kirk caught his smirk before it formed, having to remind himself briefly that however much he disliked Cupcake, he was still the captain. He couldn't laugh at one of his crew being punched in the face. By a small girl. Who didn't seem to have any upper body strength. And Kirk was fairly certain he'd seen a soft toy poking out that bag of hers.

* * *

Hannah glared at the wall in front of her as she wrapped her hands around the bar in front of her. Lowering her hips towards her heels, and shifting her weight on to her heels, she tested the bar, taking the weight into her hands slightly. She then grasped the bar tightly, and straightened out, the bar lifting up to be level with her shoulders, and then flicked her elbows underneath, falling into a squat.

"So, you do weights." Hannah flung the bar away from her body to prevent it trapping her underneath it. She spun around in shock, and stared at the Captain who leant against the doorway. Kirk smirked at her, eliciting a response from Hannah, a clear, non-verbal disapproval. Finished with the gesture, she crossed her arms grumpily.

"What do you want," She asked, so flatly it was barely a question, more a veiled dismissal. Her words curt and abrupt, and her actions even more so, Hannah sat down behind her bar, and fidgeted with it, rolling it forwards and towards herself, allowing it to collide with her knees instead of stopping it.

"What I want, is a day off," Kirk raised an eyebrow, "What I have to do is ask why you punched a member of my security team in the face. I believe you broke his nose," Kirk paused, looking at her curiously, and waiting for a response. Hannah merely kept playing with the bar, and did not look up at Kirk.

"He deserved it," she finally answered. "The fucker did his homework, and thought mocking me would be a good idea."

"And so you punched him."

"Like I said, he deserved it," Hannah forced her gaze up to look at Kirk, practically pouting at the Captain in a petulant manner. "Look, if I just apologise to the steroid pumped trigger happy moron will you let it drop?" Kirk tilted his head to look at her interestedly. He paused, then shook his head.

"Um. No," he answered decisively. Hannah frowned at him, and Kirk raised an eyebrow yet again. "You can't just say it because you're sorry you're getting told off. Acknowledge you're in the wrong!" He blurted out, his rebuking turning to an unprofessional scolding. Hannah rolled her eyes, and stood up, pushing up off one knee to stand upright. As she stood, her other knee jerked out from beneath her and she stumbled. Kirk moved forwards to steady her, but before he could reach her, she had already locked her knee out and straightened up.

"For God's sake, I'm never going to mean this apology, because he's never going to deserve it. He shouldn't go creeping around in my past- and he shouldn't use my past as an excuse to belittle me!" Hannah yanked the weights off the bar, one at a time, and threw them to her left, landing near Kirk's feet.

"And nor should you physically assault someone!"

"-Coming from you! Didn't Admiral Pike find you being beaten up by that very same prick the first time you met?" Hannah countered. Now it was her turn to sassily raise an eyebrow. She stared Kirk down for a few seconds, before snatching up her discarded weights and dragging them to the side of the room.

"I'm sure whatever Cupc- Hendorff - said can't have been that bad," Kirk reasoned, ignoring Hannah's dig at him. Hannah paused, her back to Kirk. Glowering the wall into submission, she slowly put down the weight with a care and delicacy that emanated the sense that a lethal attack was about to be launched. Hannah reached around her back, and lifted the hem of her training vest to reveal her back. Not only the thick, jagged scar that Kirk had seen when they visited the Gorn decorated her back, but also a network of thinner scars. He instinctually reached out and brushed the raised white scar tissue with his fingers. Hannah recoiled at his touch.

"This," she hissed, still to the wall, "Is not something I appreciate being joked about. Nor is what I have done to stop this, so you can tell _Cupcake_ that if he values his nose, he can fuck off out of my business or I will break it every single day that I see him." And with that snarled threat, Hannah stalked out the room, walking unnecessarily wide of the Captain, and without a second glance backwards.


	6. Chapter 6

Honestly, Kirk would have preferred a Klingon ship to appear and start attacking them. It would have been a less painful death than being forced to nullify the two pettiest people on board the ship. Cupcake had held a grudge against Kirk for three years, and still hadn't entirely forgiven him for being dubbed "Cupcake" and Hannah appeared to be even worse. She had carried out her promise to re-break Cupcake's nose, as when she had returned to the Med Bay for something to do, Cupcake had made the mistake of opening his mouth. Kirk did point out to McCoy when he complained about having to realign Cupcake's nose twice in the space of an hour that McCoy could have stopped Hannah from punching the security officer.

"And get punched myself? No thanks," came the strangled laugh of a response. Since then Hannah had refused to leave her room, except to go find food in the Mess Hall, or to go to the ship's gym. The two of them being confined on one small ship led to an uncomfortable situation- it was difficult to tell them to get some space from each other and let their anger subside, when they constantly ran into each other. Occasionally literally.

Hannah punched the sand-filled bag repeatedly, causing it to swing wildly upon impact. Her knuckles had turned red and sore with the constant abuse. Sweat formed on her forehead, and wriggled down towards her eyebrows. She glowered at the bag, and slammed a fist into it, her fingers cracking as she missed her target, causing her hand to crumble. She paused, and stretched out her hand.

"Why does the Captain insist I shouldn't underestimate you?" Cupcake spoke from behind her, the taunt rising in his voice. Hannah massaged her hand slowly, and turned to look at the burly security officer.

"Oh, gee, I dunno," She said mockingly, "Maybe, just maybe, because I've broken your nose twice already?" Her left eyebrow appeared to be trying to flee her face, it had risen so high. Her words dripped with condescension, and sarcasm rolled off her in waves.

"Lucky hits," Cupcake dismissed, and drawled, "Now, I don't know about the Captain, but I don't really like having known murderers on my ship."

"It's not _your_ ship," Hannah muttered, walking past him. "And I'm not a murderer."

"How can you not be a murderer? You've killed someone," Cupcake turned to follow her, his speech grating against her.

"You've killed people. Does that make you a murderer?" Hannah retaliated, spinning to look at him. Cupcake looked at her, surprise causing him to halt in his attack. "Exactly," She spat at him. "You've caused deaths to protect your crew. I killed someone to protect myself and others who got stuck in the same situation as me, so feck right off." She crossed her arms and stared down the security officer.

"Alright," Cupcake said slowly, "I'll make a deal. You prove to me what the Captain's been saying, and beat me in a fight, and I'll leave you be." Hannah paused, then grinned at him, a clear acceptance of his offer.

* * *

Kirk strode into the gym, ready to break up the fight he'd been told had broken out in the large room. His surprise at hearing laughter was evident on his face, and in the faltering step. He blinked in surprise, and froze, the door sliding shut behind him. Hannah was moving Cupcake's hand to a lower position.

"If you're fighting a midget like me, we're no gonna be able to reach your face easily, are we?" She laughed, "Try to change your defensive pose to suit the person you're fighting."

"What's going on here?" Kirk asked, causing the two sparring individuals to turn to look at him. Cupcake pressed his legs together and stood to attention, respectfully. Hannah rested all her weight on her back leg, and rested a hand on her hip. She glanced at Cupcake, and then returned her gaze to him and laughed.

"Oh Jesus Christ, Kirk, let the man stand at ease before he sprains something," She whacked Cupcake in the shoulder, as Kirk followed her order, and gave the command. "We were just sparring. He was showing me proper technique for hitting someone, and I was proving to him that training doesn't alway help." Kirk frowned at them, and looked to Cupcake to substantiate her explanation. Cupcake nodded solemnly.

"So…"Kirk trailed off, "You two are on good terms again?" Hannah and Cupcake looked at each other, and then both in sync turned back to Kirk, and nodded. Cupcake hesitated, and then added:

"If she promises to find another sparring partner." Hannah grinned hopefully at Kirk, raising an eyebrow in a challenge.

"I get off duty at 7," Kirk signed, resigned. "I'll see you here at 7:15." Hannah beamed back at him.

* * *

The two of them walked out of the gym together, Hannah's room being on Kirk's way to the Bridge- at least that's what he claimed to her, insisting he had to go stop off at Engineering on his way back. It was a blatant lie, Kirk's over-explaining only increasing Hannah's suspicion that it was an excuse.

"Do you want to talk about your little fight with Hendorff?" Kirk asked, slowly his pace slightly to delay them reaching their destination.

"Which one?" Hannah raised an eyebrow, and slowed her pace to match Kirk's. "The physical one we just had, or the previous one?"

"I did mean the previous one, but if you want to explain how you terrified a grown man into refusing to spar with you again?" Kirk raised an eyebrow right back at Hannah. She grinned at him, maliciously.

"I so kicked his arse," She gloated. "Honestly, didn't think I still could do that, but it was beautiful." Hannah paused. "And the other fight is resolved, so long as he- and you- don't bring up my past." Kirk frowned at her, and noted that it was her room around the next bend. His concern for her flooded off him in waves. Hannah paused in her step, and turned to look at the Captain that had fallen oddly silent. "Kirk?" She prompted.

"Sorry, just thinking," He dismissed,

"You have enough brain cells to be able to think?" Hannah grinned one final time, and danced into her room.

* * *

"McCoyyyyyyyyyyy," The voice whinged from the doorway. McCoy put his PADD down slowly, and glared at the small woman who bounced into his office. Hannah skidded to a halt and leant on his desk. She sighed dramatically, and then prodded him on the nose. McCoy watched the slender finger approach his face, and stared at her in resignation as she pushed it on to his nose.

"If you are about to tell me, I have a very boopable nose, then I'm afraid you've been beaten to it," He commented, standing up and walking away from her. Hannah pushed herself into an upright position, and then sat on the edge of his desk, her feet swinging off the edge.

"Who stole my comment?' She faux-demanded, a smirk forming on her face. "Do I need to beat them up for the right to stupid comments?"

"From what I hear, you're going to do that anyway, at 7:15," McCoy raised an eyebrow at her. "We have a bet going," Hannah perked up, and threw herself off the desk, flying towards McCoy.

"And you've bet on me right?" She teased, poking him in the arm. McCoy swatted her away like an irritating fly. He shook his head.

"Jim, if he decides not to go easy on you, will overpower you in under three minutes," He spoke with confidence. "And I'll be coming to observe, and be the designated medical officer there to deal with your lifeless remains."

"Ye of little faith," Hannah smirked, "Imma take him down," Snapping her fingers, and pointing to the ground, in an overtly flamboyant manner, Hannah sat down on the bed beside McCoy.

"You're a bio-med student, not Jackie Chan," McCoy reminded her. "I think Kirk can handle you,"

"Wanna make a second bet on that?"

"Fine, what you want?" McCoy folded his arms and lent back. Hannah pretended to think.

"How 'bouts, if I lose, I become your personal lackey for the next four years, and if I win, you have to wear Uhura's uniform in every off duty moment for the next month?" She offered, a wicked smile taunting him.

"Bring it, and prepare to do a lot of paperwork," McCoy held a hand for Hannah to shake on. She took it solemnly and beamed.

* * *

Hannah pushed at the swollen side of her lip with her tongue, causing it to stick out even further from the rest of her lip. Kirk glanced at her, and apologised yet again for the lip.

"I thought you'd duck!" He offered in defence. Hannah stopped prodding her lip, and laughed, hitting Kirk on the arm.

"Don't be daft, this is nothing compared to _that_ ," Hannah nodded to Kirk's nose, which he held gingerly between his fingers in an attempt to stop getting blood on his shirt- or rather, even more blood on his shirt. Kirk laughed with Hannah, and looked down at her, trying to keep his head tilted slightly up.

"What is it with you and noses?" He teased. Hannah laughed and shrugged;

"Must be easy targets," She suggested, "But honestly, sorry. Didn't think I'd hit you hard enough to actually do damage," She winced slightly with her apology, genuine sympathy lacing her words. Kirk turned his head to look straight ahead again, letting go of his nose hesitantly. He let his hand hover near his face for a couple of seconds, before he was sure his nose had stopped bleeding. He waved her apology away, an offhand dismissal of it, before reminding her to go to go to Med Bay;

"After all, you owe McCoy personal lackey service," Kirk reminded her. Hannah groaned melodramatically, pretending to swoon in horror. Standing back upright, Hannah grinned at the Captain, and caused him to beam back at her.

"Mumma McCoy has no idea what he's in for," Hannah giggled, gleefully. "This is gonna be great."

* * *

McCoy had already made great use of his new lackey, and it had been less than 20 minutes. He'd sent her on a fool's errand to get a blood sample off Ensign Wilder, to follow up on his treatment of her the previous day. McCoy had smiled to himself, knowing that getting blood from Ensign Wilder was as simple as drawing blood from a stone. He'd sat down at his desk, gotten comfortable with his reports, blessing a peaceful day- after all Hannah would be gone for hours, when the young woman sauntered in and passed the vial triumphantly to the CMO. McCoy's expression was priceless.

"Jesus Christ, you look like someone's attempting to stream a film on Netflix on our crappy Uni wifi," Hannah had giggled. As punishment for her theft of his trope, excessive use of metaphors, McCoy sent her to see if she could stop Keenser from sneezing, and advised her to find some non-corrosive shield to protect herself. Hannah had merely grinned and bounded out of the room.

"She's like a hyperactive puppy," McCoy had grumbled tot he nearest nurse, who merely laughed, and placed a bet with Nurse Stephens that Hannah would be back in under 10 minutes and McCoy would send her to deal with Kirk, because that was the only sure-fire way to get rid of a medical officer for hours. McCoy had left his office when Hannah returned, and didn't register her entry. She cartoonishly tip-toed up to him, and leant on his shoulder, causing the CMO to jump in surprise.

"Keenser's cold is cured," She announced. "Did none of you think of maybe Honey and Lemon in hot water?" Hannah looked around at the room, and was met with blank faces. "Citrus fruit is good for colds, and honey soothes the throat, so coughing hurts less. Also, I asked Keenser if he knew of any good cold remedies for his species and apparently they have discovered lemon is a very good antibacterial agent, and kills most foreign, harmful bacteria. Come on, Doctor McCoy, you should know by now, that sometimes you can just _ask_ a patient?"

* * *

Hannah danced on to the bridge, hypospray wielded before her like a weapon. Spock noted her entry out the corner of his eye, and it wasn't until he saw her gaze on the Captain, and the hypospray in her hand that he understood her presence on the Bridge. Chekov turned to look at the source of the noise, caused by the opening of the door, and Hannah beamed at him. Holding a finger up to her lips, she winked at the young Russian navigator. She slowly hid the hypospray unsubtly behind her back.

"Captain Kirk," she chirped, bounding forwards. Kirk turned to look, and raised an eyebrow.

"You drive Bones insane already?" He asked, standing up, and walking to the railing. Hannah leant over the railing, swinging just a touch farther than she intended to, and leaving her face close to Kirk's; just at that distance where it was uncomfortably close. She grinned.

"I think I'm wearing him down," She grinned. "He knows he loves it really." With that, she raised her arm swiftly, and jabbed Kirk in the neck with a hypospray. The Captain whined like a little kid that stubbed their toe.

"Ow!" He objected. Hannah leant back, and patted the Captain's shoulder with her free hand, she smiled in a false sympathy. Kirk rubbed his neck with his own hand, and Hannah mocked the traditions of empathy at him. "That hurt!" Kirk complained. Hannah grinned at him.

"Well, if it's that bad, I mean I could always kiss it better," She teased, and spun, flamboyantly leaving the bridge with a flair. As she stepped into the turbo lift, she gave a cheery salute to the bridge crew, and a taunting wink to the Captain. The doors slid shut, and she was gone from their sight.

"Captain," Uhura spoke, twisting in her seat. Kirk blinked in surprise, and turned to look at Uhura. "I know this is strange for you, but I can translate this. That's a woman flirting back at you."

"Sulu, don't you dare laugh," Kirk warned, as Sulu turned back to his console, smothering a laugh.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Sulu sniggered.

* * *

Hannah tossed the empty hypospray on to McCoy's desk. She grinned at him and raised an eyebrow expectantly. McCoy paused, looked at the hypospray, then up to Hannah. Then back to the hypospray. Hannah smiled at it, and McCoy's frown deepened. He gave an exaggerated sniff.

"Go have a shower. You stink."

"Sir, yes, sir," Hannah beamed, and about-turned, striding back out of Med Bay. She sniffed cautiously as the door slid shut behind her, and with horror realised that maybe McCoy did have a point. The reek of sweat hung in the air around her, a distinct smell of rusted metal and, an almost mould like scent. Hannah gagged on the scent, and headed back towards her room- taking the routes that seemed to have the least number of people on them. She hummed happily under her breath the whole way back, for the first time since she boarded the ship, feeling genuinely happy, instead of faking it. Now, with jobs to do, somewhere to report to, she felt like she was part of the crew. Less of an outsider.

 _Well_ , Hannah mused, _not much less of an outsider, it's not as if anyone understands any of my references._

She reached her door sooner than she expected, and flung herself on to her bed as the door slid shut. Happily noting to herself that she now did associate these things as hers, that she felt safe enough here to take ownership of things, Hannah rolled on to her back. She grinned broadly at the ceiling.

"Computer." A sly smirk replaced the grin, and Hannah was sure she sounded suspicious, even to the computer. "Play _Highway to Hell_ by AC/DC followed by _Sabotage_ by Beastie Boys, and play them loud." Her voice lingered on the last word, savouring the taste of it. Then music stared blaring from unseen speakers, and Hannah grinned wider than she'd done in a long time. Pulling her vest over her head, and tugging her hair down out of the ponytail, she danced over to the bathroom door. She flung the vest across the room from her, and sang along to her music, horrifically out of tune, and eternally proud of it.

" _Living easy, Living Free-_ _Season ticket on a one way ride_ ,"


	7. Chapter 7

Loud music blared obtrusively out of Engineering. Kirk passed the doorway to the department, and barely escaped being thrown up against the wall by the fleeing Engineering officers. Back pressed against the wall, Kirk glimpsed Jaylah working inside, her head bouncing along to the beat enthusiastically, and Scotty distinctly _not_ working. Scotty sat, head down on a counter, looking utterly dejected. The figure of a broken man seemed to breathe in, and let out an astronomical sigh. Kirk raised an eyebrow at the scene before him as the doors slid shut, and the noise was lessened. He looked up the corridor at the backs of the hurried Engineering officers and then sighed himself, opened the doors, and resigned to his duty as Captain, forced his way through the wall of sound.

* * *

Jaylah had not been impressed at Kirk's suggestion to turn the music down, but had allowed him to introduce her to earphones. Unfortunately, she still played the music so loud those nearby could hear her, but at least this time "nearby" meant 'within a few feet', not 'in the same star-system'. Kirk walked down the corridor, only to hear more music blasting out of a separate door. Abusing his Captain's privileges, and utilising his ability to override every lock, Kirk walked into the room without announcing his presence and began speaking:

"I like Sabotage as much as the next per…son," He trailed off distractedly, as Hannah screeched a high pitched noise, and dropped to the floor. She hid her frame behind the bed, and only allowed her head to be visible above the bed. Face flushed, Hannah's eyes had widened.

"Computer shut up." The words tumbled out of her mouth quickly, frantically. She stared at the Captain in horror. "Kirk, _WHAT THE FUCK_!" Her voice somehow rose mother octave. A hand snaked out and snatched the towel off the bed, and Hannah briefly turned away from Kirk, to wrap the material around her frame. The white towel reached to her mid-thigh and she stood up, taking a deliberately deep breath.

"Your music was really loud," Kirk said simply, sounding like a rebuked school boy, and looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Hannah stared back at him, something feral about her defensive pose.

"I turned it off?" Hannah mimicked his tone, not out of mockery. She looked almost as shocked as the man before her. They stared at each other. Hannah wrapped her hand into a fist, bunching the towel material into her hand, and fidgeting uncomfortably. "This is awkward."

"Very," Kirk agreed.

"I normally roll with this sort of thing really well," Hannah seemed to whisper, her voice coming out husky. Kirk raised an eyebrow, and the spell was broken. Hannah folded her arms, the towel, thankfully, staying put, and the panic-stricken expression left her face, replaced with a deadpan look.

"Clearly, you handle awkward very well," Kirk commented. Hannah stood around the bed, and stared him down.

"Clearly, you are more experienced with it. Care to teach me?" Hannah drawled. Kirk grinned at her. Hannah didn't blink, her defiant challenge hanging in the air. The crackle of a promise and a threat laced the words like venom, and Hannah's mind flung through the possibilities of this moment. A thousand possible futures lay just before her, uncommunicable hints hidden just out of sight, and yet only the one could come to pass.

"Captain, your presence is needed on the bridge,"

* * *

Hannah watched the door slid shut behind the Captain, and then sank slowly on to the bed. Vowing never again to loiter in her room, refusing to dress for extended periods of time after a shower, she scanned the room for her clothes. She dressed faster than she had done in her life, and then returned to her shell-shocked position on her bed. She stared at the wall for a few moments, and then, with a despairing groan, flung herself backwards on the bed. Her head bounced up slightly with he force that she had thrown herself downwards, and she internally winced. Her own embarrassment flooded the room, and she cringed. She lifted her hands and buried her face in her palms.

"Whyyyyyy," She grumbled, her voice emitting a muffled, incoherent moan. Knowing her face to be bright red, she pushed herself upright, and decided to go annoy McCoy in Med Bay, because she was going to go insane, shut inside with only her own memories circling in her head.

* * *

Hannah set off from her room, striding towards the Med Bay, before a familiar face a crowd of people threw her. Her footsteps halter, and her heart spluttered out a frantic, fearful irregular panic. She turned to stare at the back of the head, but it was lost amongst a sea of Star Fleet crew members. She shook her head, and set off again, a little more uncertain. Then the face bobbed into her sight again, from the same direction. And impossibly, there is was again. Hannah's breathing became rapid, and she fixed her gaze to the floor, walking faster. She now walked with a purpose, a different purpose. The striding had been replaced with an almost scurry. Feet moving below her with a rapidity that made her stand on her own feet, she brushed people out the way, and instinctually looked up to see _him._

"No," Hannah gritted her teeth, telling herself this way not happening. He was dead, they were all dead. Even if she had been wrong then, they were all dead, it was 250 years into her future, they could not be alive. The Med Bay was just along one more corridor, she could make it there, and then McCoy would be able to tell her what the hell was happening.

"Remember me?" Drawled a voice, tantalisingly sinister. The hair on the back of her neck rose and she couldn't bear to turn around. The voice rose, and didn't stop. It harassed her the whole way to the Med Bay.

Hannah ran the rest of the way.

* * *

"McCoy, I am hallucinating." It was not a question, there was no uncertainty in the statement. What there was, however, was fear. Her voice trembled, and her eyes snapped shut. Hannah pushed her body back on to the door, and clamped her hands over her ears. "I am going insane, and I don't know why, so I don't know how but _fix it._ "

Voices circled her, vultures waiting. Watching. Preparing for the death they knew to be coming soon. Breath was shivering down her neck, clammy hands. Hands everywhere.

She curled into a ball, holding her hands over her ears tighter, and tighter. Her hands went white with the pressure, blood surging through her veins to her ears. Heart beat pounded. Fear. She needed to move, to run, to get away from this voice, from those hands- but where could she go? She was trapped on a ship, with nothing but an empty, desolate void outside the hull. Through the cold sweat that had drowned her frame, she felt metal press against her skin, and darkness cradled her in its arms.

* * *

McCoy looked down at the young woman, who had fallen limply to the side. Her hands had released their death grip on her ears, and the flush which had driven her to start running towards the wall, eyes still firmly shut, had faded from her cheeks. Hannah looked a hollow frame of a person. Even though McCoy had seen her less than two hours prior, the girl had flung herself into Med Bay looking haunted and somehow gaunt. It was as though the demons, she believed to chase her, had sucked the life out of her. Her heart beat had faded the minute McCoy had injected her with the anaesthetic, but it had faded too quickly, and too much to be normal. Tricorder in hand, McCoy frowned, not understanding the readings he was receiving from the medical tricorder.

"Jim?"

"What is it, Bones?" Came the response over the comms, sounding bored, and a little exasperated.

"I think there's something you need to see,"

* * *

Kirk was in the Med Bay in a matter of moments. McCoy gestured to the woman lying on the bed.

"It seems to be some kind of bacterial infection, but I've never seen anything like it," McCoy explained, as the Captain moved forwards to look at her. He was met with a force field, which crackled below his fingers. Kirk turned his head sharply. "She was hallucinating, I didn't want to be on the receiving end if she wakes up."

" _If_?" The word came out tersely, and a little high pitched. Kirk strode back to McCoy. "What do you mean 'if'?" McCoy sighed, and stared at the readings on the console in front of him.

"She doesn't have the same antibodies, and physiology as the rest of us- not exactly, anyway. If I tried to kill the bacteria, I could end up killing her too." McCoy didn't soften the blow, and Kirk physically recoiled from the words. McCoy watched his friend closely, and stepped forwards, to just behind him.

"Can you wake her?" Kirk asked, quietly.

"Anaesthetic is going to wear off in a few seconds," McCoy answered. "She'll wake herself." _Hopefully_ he didn't add aloud, but the word hung in the air so densely, it was almost audible. Kirk stared at the woman on the bed, and, as if sensing him, she blinked herself into wakefulness. Hannah sat up, a hand lifting to her head slowly, agonisingly.

"Hannah?" Kirk tested. Hannah lifted her head, to look at him. The colour flooded from her face, and she stared at Kirk in horror. She flung herself back off the bed, colliding with the wall with such a force that her whole frame shuddered from the impact, but her eyes remained fixed on Kirk.

"No," She whispered hoarsely, unblinking. Unmoving.

"Hannah, it's me. It's Kirk," Kirk tried again. Hannah tried to back away further her back pressed into the wall. Her hands splayed on the wall, and for the first time, she broke eye contact with Kirk, and seemed to scan around the bed for a weapon. Not finding one, she leapt over the bed, and slammed into the force field. The collision with the invisible wall seemed to shatter her illusion, and she sank to the floor.

"Kirk," She breathed, fear infantilising her voice. "Kirk, what's happening to me?"

"You're hallucinating." McCoy answered for him. Hannah let her eyes drift shut. "I think it's a bacterial infection, but I don't know how to treat it."

"Not to tell you how to do your job, but have you tried some fucking antibiotics- and you SHUT UP." Hannah's head whipped around to glower at something over her shoulder, something that didn't exist. Kirk knelt down, the other side of the force field, and pity wafted from him. McCoy barely resisted sarcasm in response.

"I've tried antibiotics. You didn't respond to them," McCoy answered monotonously. Hannah pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, and gritted her teeth.

"Have you tried antibiotics from my time? Or hell, even fucking penicillin?" She spat, and lifted a single hand behind her. Initially a fist, she fired her middle finger upright. The empty room behind her didn't respond, at least not that Kirk or McCoy could see. "And once you've done that, can you bring Jaylah and her music in here, so I can drown this out?"

* * *

McCoy now felt like he was the one going insane. Hannah flicked between singing loudly along to Jaylah's "angry" music, and sassing an invisible figure. McCoy actually had to admit, her piss fights with empty air were quite funny, but Hannah seemed to be straining to hold herself together. Her hallucinations had lasted nearly two hours now, and the cracks in her disinterested facade were beginning to show. Her hands trembled on her knees, and she furled them into balls, screaming out lyrics from _Thunderstruck,_ her voice crackling slightly. McCoy had flooded the air inside the force field with gaseous penicillin but it hadn't seemed to help her in anyway yet.

"Computer, turn the music off." The sudden silence in the Med Bay was eerie. McCoy felt disconcerted at the abrupt quiet, and feared for half a heartbeat that he would start to hear voices too. Hannah stood, and pressed her hands against the force field. There was a crackling of blue and yellow from below her hands. "McCoy, this bacteria, do you lot have antibodies against this shithead?" McCoy nodded in response.

"Yeah, it's common on Earth, but it doesn't affect anyone this way," He frowned at her. "You're not thinkin-"

-"Aye, I'm fucking thinking blood transfusion."

"I can't guarantee it'll work," McCoy warned her. Hannah looked at him, her eyes dead.

"At this point, you cannae guarantee anything will bloody work, so how 'bouts we give it a wee try, okay?"

* * *

Kirk sat in his chair, fingers tapping nervously on the arm. He waited tensely for the message to come from McCoy to say Hannah had gotten worse, that her condition was deteriorating, but no such call came and that was worse. He had no idea if what was happening to her would affect the rest of his crew- and out here, in deep space, 50 days travel from the nearest Star Fleet station, it was less than ideal. He'd already made the executive decision that if someone else was affected by these hallucinations, that he was setting the Enterprise to autopilot all the way back to Yorktown. He couldn't risk the lives of his whole crew, either from the mania of their colleagues, or from the bacteria itself.

"Captain, I'm reading a nebula off our starboard bow. It's dense in both deuterium and anti-deuterium," Spock reported. "Our supply of both substances would benefit from being replenished." Kirk nodded distractedly, his mind still in the Med Bay. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, um, you can deal with that, right?" Kirk asked, shifting responsibility for the minor act to someone else. Spock nodded, turned and left the Bridge.

* * *

"Well, I mean, you've got to get over it at some point," Hannah muttered. "You've only been dead 250 years, you'll have to get used to it." McCoy glanced over at Hannah, who was clearly listening to the answer her hallucinations were giving. "Didnae be petty, threatening to kill me? Like come on, you didnae exist, the only way you can make me pay, is if you make me _make_ me suffer? And whilst saying 'make me make me' pains me, it isnae gonna kill me." Hannah glowered over her shoulder again. She narrowed her eyes, and scoffed: "Oh suck a dick!" McCoy raised his eyebrows at her outburst. This was the most violent one yet, and her heart rate had spiked dramatically. Moving steadily upwards from her resting heart rate of 64 to 89 beats per minute, Hannah's hands tensed again, the veins lifting out from her skin. The doors slid open, and Hannah saw another ghost walk in, this time wearing a friend's face. She let her frame drop backwards, and McCoy hurried forwards to the console, checking her life signs.

"Hannah?" He called.

"I'm fine," She moaned, staring at the ceiling. "Did the door actually open?" McCoy answered positively.

"Yeah, Jim just came in," McCoy told her. "Who are you seeing?"

"Someone who was in the army with me. He died whilst I was serving with him," She complained. "Like thank you brain. Just what I want, guilt to add to my disgust." Hannah flipped off her 'disgust', yet again. She waved at the Captain. "Please dear God tell me you know how to fix this?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid," Kirk apologised. Hannah sat up, and looked hopefully at McCoy.

"I don't know how to fix it yet, but I know what's causing it."

"Tell me." It was not a request that spilled from Hannah's mouth. She scrambled to the edge of the force field, and pressed her body as close she could to the invisible shield.

"It's respiring anaerobically in your brain, yet for some reason the ethanol is interacting with your neuro-pathways in such a way that it's making you hallucinate," McCoy explained. He frowned at the screen again, his brow straining with the effort. "Does that hurt? Pressing into the force field?"

"Like a bitch, why?" Hannah asked plainly, swiftly. Kirk moved towards her and placed a hand on the force field himself. He recoiled his hand sharply as an electric current ran through his body.

"How-?" Kirk didn't finish his question, but he didn't need to. Hannah smiled a cruel perversion of a smile. Bitter and twisted, it emanated a history behind the past that would never be spoken.

"It keeps me grounded. He," She jerked her head back to symbolise 'disgust' behind her, "is happy when I'm in pain. It's his retribution for me killing him." The statement came out with no emotion, no regret. Kirk stared at her, suddenly able to see the person he had read about. Before Hannah's past seemed to have happened to someone else, but now, in that moment, Kirk was able to see the steel that drove her to protect herself. Whilst her act may have been self-defence, it was still deadly, and that lethal coldness shone in her in that moment. McCoy coughed, interrupting their moment, Hannah turned to look at him, her steely cold eyes emptying, and turning back to sad. As her cheek turned away from Kirk, he realised how hollow it was. Somehow, in the space of 4 hours, Hannah had lost weight. She had lost a _lot_ of weight.

"I think I have something, want to try it?" McCoy offered Hannah. She nodded stiffly, and McCoy pressed a single button on the console. Hannah stared at him for a moment, ready to be disappointed, and then fell to the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

Hannah was back in that god-awful cellar. The stench of excrement filled the air, and she felt herself gag and recoil. Sobbing came from behind her, and slowly, she turned to look at the source of the crying. Hannah felt her body move of its own accord towards the crying girl, and she cradled the sobbing girl's head in her arms. Comforting words sounded in Hannah's own voice, but Hannah didn't think the words:

"It's okay, it's okay," Hannah's arms wrapped around the girl's shoulder's tightly, clinging on to her like a drowning man would a life line. "Aimee, we're all going to be fine. We're going to get out of this, you just have to be strong. Can you do that for me?" The little girl's eyes were too large for her skinny face, and brimming with tears. The little light in the room glinted off their wet surface, and the light bobbed up and down, as the girl nodded away her silent tears. Hannah felt her face draw close to the little Aimee's as she kissed the girl on the forehead tenderly, motherly. Wrapping protective arms around her, Hannah cradled the small girl to sleep. She felt another girl press against her left upper arm, and Hannah's arm moved to include her in the hug. Soon all 18 of the girls were huddled together, Hannah at the centre, whispering assurance to them all.

* * *

"You," the man who haunted Hannah aboard the Enterprise pointed at young Aimee, and the girl trembled to her feet. Hannah pushed herself upright, and swept the girl behind her.

"No, whatever you want, I will do it. Leave Aimee alone," Hannah's voice was sturdy, her gaze steady, but even now, even in a memory it pounded with terror. Her hand shook on Aimee's shoulder. She stared down the man. He glowered at Hannah, and snatched her upper arm, his hand wrapping all around the thin twig of a limb, and dragged her upstairs.

"You'll pay for your insolence," the hiss came in Hannah's ear. Her feet dragged on the ground, unable to move fast enough to keep up with the man. She stayed silent, and swallowed down her fear. Her breath came out shaky, and Hannah wrenched her arm free from the man, snatching his keys away, and fleeing back to the door. She slammed into it, and hastily rammed the key in the lock. Her trembling fingers delayed her turning of the lock, but she managed to unlock the door as the man reached her. Hannah flung her weight on him, throwing him off for half a second, screaming over her shoulder.

"Go! Get out! Go- Please!" The man grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the next room, Hannah screaming and kicking all the way. She saw the girls fleeing out of the room in a large group, little Aimee at the back. Aimee hovered for a moment, just as the man pulled a gun out of his waistband. Hannah tried to grab for it, and they struggled with one another. The gun went off. Aimee's hand moved to her stomach, and her mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise. Hannah screamed, but no sound came from her. The scream came from Aimee's sister, standing in the doorway, having returned for her baby sister. The scream shot through Hannah, a thousand times more painful than any bullet could ever be. It shattered her heart into pieces, and Hannah gained the strength from some small part of her to throw the man off. She grabbed a glass coaster from the table and smashed it against the wall. She spun back, and plunged the glass into the man's neck. Aimee's sister still screamed.

* * *

"Kirk, if you'd only heard that scream," Hannah's voice was coarse, broken. "I could live with myself for killing him, I could tell myself I had to, but Aimee…" Hannah's heart grew heavy and she leant against the force field, the electric barrier buzzing around her head. Tears formed in her eyes, and Hannah's lip trembled below her. She buried her head into her hands. "I relive that moment every night, and every time Aimee dies, and I hear that scream over and over. I see her eyes go opaque and the guilt just floods in."

Kirk's hand reached out to her, as though reaching to hold her. Hannah recoiled away from Kirk.

"It wasn't your fault," He tried to assure her. Hannah looked up at him with those wounded eyes, spilling with tears. A broken women, a small, scared child still.

"But it was," She whispered. "Forensics. It was my fingerprint on the trigger. I'm the one that killed her." Kirk's heart broke, and he sat down next to Hannah, the force field between them.

"You were trying to protect them. You tried to save them," He began to say, but Hannah shook her head.

"I was angry. I wanted revenge for me." She looked away from Kirk, meeting his gaze was too painful. "The papers, the other girls. They make it sound like I tried to delay him to let them all get out, but I didn't." Hannah looked back up at Kirk, and pain hardened her features into that cold, destructive malice he had seen earlier. Her next words came out so low, they were barely more than a hiss of agony. "I wanted him to suffer. I wanted retribution for every single thing he had done to me. I don't know if you've ever felt true anger but-"

-"I have." Kirk cut in. Hannah blinked. "When my predecessor, Admiral Pike died. Was killed," Kirk corrected himself, and anger seemed to bubble through him. "I knew I couldn't kill the man that took his life, but I came so close. I was so caught in getting revenge, I endangered the lives of my whole crew." Hannah stared at the Captain she thought she knew, her eyes drying in shock, and widening with every word. Kirk looked almost as wounded as she did, and his gaze met hers with a hollow pain. "It's a mistake I'll never let myself forget. Or repeat."

* * *

McCoy had let Hannah out of her prison in the Med Bay, and a swift scan with a tricorder ensured that all traces of the bacteria were either gone or dead, and those that were dead he had extracted to analyse in depth. He frowned over the samples, as Hannah sat on the bed, cross legged and a little more self-conscious than before.

"So," McCoy started. "That was intense."

"If you ever mention it, I will gut you." Hannah's response was immediate, and emotionless. McCoy looked up from the sample briefly, and over to her.

"Don't worry. You're in the same pile as Sulu. The 'never mess with' pile," He responded, bending back over the sample. "On a different, safer, note: Does Scotty still have that ship debris?" Hannah shrugged in response and waited for an explanation. McCoy didn't give one. At least, not until Hannah coughed deliberately, drawing his attention back to her. Hannah raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well?" She demanded. "What relevance is the debris to me?" McCoy paused over the sample, and gestured for Hannah to look at the readings on the console.

"Look at this," he pointed to an abnormal line on the chart in front of them. "That is gamma radiation. There is nothing on this ship that gives out gamma radiation, and it can't penetrate the ship's hull, so how is this bacteria mutated to utilise gamma radiation as a energy source? And how is it utilising it right now?"

* * *

Scotty poked at the debris hesitantly, lifting one piece cautiously. Keenser stood next to him, his eyes barely reaching the table level, for once not climbing on various pieces of equipment in Engineering. Scotty frowned at the hull, and checked the readings on the tricorder.

"What?" He muttered aloud. "That's no right."

"Scotty, for the love of God, throw that shit out an airlock." Hannah's voice startled Scotty out of his puzzled reverie. He spun and looked at her in confusion.

"It's made of a radon alloy." He frowned. Hannah's drooped slightly with exasperation, and she resisted an eyeball.

"Yes, I know. I guessed. And what does radon do?" Hannah sounded like a primary school teacher, prompting a young child into the right answer. Scotty frowned at her, and Hannah let her head fall back slightly to look at the ceiling. "It emits gamma radiation. Gamma radiation=bad. Get rid." Hannah spun and started to leave.

"I'll have to ask the Captain to do that!" Scotty shouted after her. The doors closed behind Hannah, but her weary retort was still audible.

"You do that. I need a fucking drink," The doors slid shut, and Hannah muttered to herself. "Or several."


	9. Chapter 9

Carol, Hannah and Uhura all burst into giggles. Drinks in hand, cross-legged on Carol's bed, they were like teenagers that had raided their parent's liquor cabinet. Hannah sank her head into her free hand and smothered her hysteria my ducking her chin into her neck. Carol giggled freely, and Uhura made no attempt to stop the laughter that burst from her. The three women all sniggered in unison at something which was not all that funny, but it had been a long day for all three of them, and it felt good to just laugh. Hannah's giggles subsided first, and she leant her head on Uhura's shoulder, comfortable, relaxed. Still smiling, she raised the glass to her slanted lips, and somehow drank from the glass without spilling anything. Uhura let her head rest atop Hannah's, and pulled Carol by the shoulders into this half-hug, half-doze.

* * *

When Hannah stumbled back towards her room, exhaustion swamped her, and like an over watered plant, she wilted through the doorway. Her thoughts felt muffled, her brain too large and too stuffy to be held within her skull, and she sank on to the floor on the other side of the door. She let her head fall backwards on to the wall, and it connected with a solid, loud and painful 'thud'. Feeling too tired, mentally, physically, emotionally, to care, Hannah didn't even bother to mutter an 'ow'. Her giggle had long since died on her lips, and she closed her eyes shut against reality, the cotton wool that was her brain muffling all of the firing synapses from the back of her head. The bleeping of the door was loud and obtrusive, penetrating through her muffled non-thoughts.

"What." It was not a question. It was barely an answer, with the singularity of the word emitting such a hostility that Hannah felt a twinge of guilt as the doors slid open. She slowly rolled her head to look at the door. The light spilling out of the doorway flooded into the room. Hannah closed her eyes against the brightness. "Uhhhh, in or out, just get rid of the light," Hannah whined petulantly. She struggled upright, and wobbled on her feet to the window. Each step she took was strong, more certain of herself and then she leant against the glass, forehead pressed to the void of space. McCoy pulled the girl back towards her bed, and sat her down on it. She reached a hand towards the window.

"I'm a doctor, dammit, not a babysitter," He muttered under his breath. "Hannah, how much did you drink?" Hannah grinned a wicked grin at him.

"Honestly, not much," she beamed, and then the energy drained from her again, and she rested her head on his shoulder. McCoy sat tense, uncomfortable at the sudden affection. "I'm just tired."

"I heard your conversation with Jim," McCoy began. Hannah mumbled a disapproving grumble, incoherent but distinctly irritable. McCoy smothered the amusement that glinted on his face, like a fish just out of sight under a river's skin. "I know your past is your business-"

-"You got that right, stay out of it."

"But," McCoy continued unperturbed by Hannah's interruption. "drinking yourself into oblivion isn't the answer." Hannah snorted in derision. She rolled her eyes to look at McCoy, condescension dripping off her gaze. Her head remained on his shoulder, until McCoy pressed a single finger into her cheek and pushed it back upright. He turned to look at her. "Kid, shit happens. You can't keep it all locked inside."

"Why do you care?" Hannah folded her legs on the bed, and stared at them intently, her words sounding like they belonged to an argumentative teenager, rather than a 27 year old woman.

"I don't." The bluntness of the comment made Hannah's head snap up to look at McCoy, and her vision swam with the movement. "But I don't want to have to give you a cure for a hangover every other day."

* * *

McCoy sat waiting for Hannah to wander in, complaining of a headache. He was instead greeted with a sheepish wave and a mouthed apology. He accepted the apology with a tiny nod- Hannah might have missed it if she hadn't been watching intently for a reaction. She grinned at McCoy, still a hint of the apology wavering her with hesitancy.

"So, Doctor McCoy, what's on today's agenda?" Hannah chirped, sitting on McCoy's desk. McCoy wordlessly handed her a PADD, and she skim read it, looking up midway through to raise an eyebrow at the CMO. McCoy challenged her to question him, with silent daggers piercing through Hannah. They had no effect on her. "Really?" McCoy nodded once.

"How can I expect you to treat my fellow crew, if you don't know their physiology? And behavioural attributes?" He asked rhetorically. Hannah grinned at him, and hopped off his desk. She bowed in mock deference, her nose coming level with her knees.

"I shall proceed with my studies immediately," She announced, and skipped off to read and memorise an entire textbook on Vulcans. McCoy smiled to himself as the door slid shut behind her, leaning back in his chair. This ought to be a calm day, after all, Kirk was safely stuck on the bridge till 6, no one currently had any illnesses, and now he had distracted Hannah for the good part of a week trying to understand the complex that was the Vulcan body.

* * *

Hannah danced back in two hours later, and handed the PADD back to McCoy. He merely stared at it. Hannah pushed it back towards him.

"Not to sound like Oliver Twist, but can I have some more?" She asked, a wry smile twisting up her features. McCoy stated at her, agog.

"You can't have learnt all that- not in two hours," He objected. Hannah beamed at him, and began listing various features of the Vulcan physiology. McCoy waved a hand for her to shut up, and Hannah, for once, obeyed. She continued to look expectantly at McCoy, hoping for more distractions. McCoy frowned at her, and slowly spoke; "What organs do Humans have that are absent in humans?"

"Appendices, singular: Appendix," Hannah answered smugly, a grin forming on her face.

"Where would you find their hearts?" McCoy spluttered out immediately. Hannah smirked at him.

"Where our livers are." Hannah poked herself in the abdomen to demonstrate where human's livers are found. McCoy narrowed his eyes.

"Fine. Do they have mitochondrion?" Hannah rolled her eyes at his question, in mock disapproval. She placed a hand on her hip and her smirk widened.

"Eassssyyyyyy," She taunted. "Of course they do, much like us, their digestive system- and other systems- requires active transport, so how else would they produce ATP if not with mitochondrion?" Hannah grinned at McCoy. He frowned.

"Do you have an eidetic memory?" He asked, puzzling over the strange phenomenon stood in front of him. Hannah shook her head jauntily, and smiled at McCoy.

"Just great revision techniques and a short term memory that just won't quit," She answered. McCoy narrowed his eyes at her, and Hannah continued to smile at him, irritatingly cheery. "Nah, I just taught myself to remember things quickly. It's a useful trick." McCoy peered at her, and then stood up wordlessly. He turned away from her and then tossed a hypospray over his shoulder towards the girl perched on his desk. Hannah caught it with ease and looked at it, confused. McCoy turned back to her, and smirked.

"Do you want to stab Kirk in the neck with a needle?" McCoy asked coyly. Hannah tilted her head and frowned. McCoy's smirked widened. "It's a fun pastime, I mean, half the time, he doesn't technically _need_ the injections, but equally, they won't _hurt_ him." Hannah's grin widened to match McCoy's.

* * *

Kirk rubbed the side of his neck, the mild pain irritating him. Hannah almost apologised, but then decided against it. He probably deserved. Probably. Maybe. Hannah instead opted for a cheesy grin and nudged him with her shoulder.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Hannah teased. Kirk turned to her, and pouted comically at her, and Hannah's laughter filled the turbo lift. Kirk's eyes crinkled with humour, and he grinned right back at her.

"You're a bully, you know that," Kirk answered, equal mockery in his tone. "A little bundle of evil wrapped in a small deceiving frame of innocence." Hannah grinned at him and winked.

"You don't know the half of it," She smirked, folding her arms and looking up at the Captain. "Anyway, what's this I hear about a landing party?" Her attempt to continue the conversation was clunky and obvious, but it worked. Kirk grinned at her, and answered her vague question instantly.

"Yeah, there's a nearby planet called Neural. Spock thinks it would be 'prudent' to collect plant life samples," Kirk answered, struggling to contain an eye roll when he quoted Spock. Hannah pushed herself off the wall of the turbo lift, and didn't break away from his gaze. Standing less than a metre away from the Captain's face, Hannah spoke softly.

"Well, don't you go getting hurt. Can't be doing with Spock as an acting captain for long," Hannah smiled, but the teasing was weak. A note of falseness rang through her voice, and as she lingered a fraction of a second too long after the trail of her words left the air. The turbo lift opened, and she hesitated just that little bit too much before leaving. She looked over at the Captain, her head turning over her shoulder for one final time and her heart lifted a fraction to see the Captain looking right back at her, equal parts curious and amazed. Both of them lifted a corner of their mouths into a smile. And then the doors closed, and the gap between them was infinite and impassable.

* * *

Hannah wandered into the Mess Hall, too early for her to have woken naturally. Bedhead still exploding from her head in a frizz of brunette. She hadn't changed out of pyjamas yet, and didn't care what any of the crew thought of her state of dress. Flopping into an empty chair at an empty table, Hannah flipped off the gawking security officer sat across from her. She mumbled something into her coffee and drank deeply from the mug in front of her. Deciding on a solely liquid-based breakfast, Hannah folded her legs on the chair beneath her, and flopped her head on the table. Closing her eyes for a moment, she woke up with her coffee having practically frozen over in front of her it was so cold. Blearily blinking herself awake, Hannah rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, and tried to force herself back awake. Deciding that changing out of pyjamas might wake her up slightly, Hannah stumbled back out of the Mess Hall towards her room, leaving behind only a half drained cup of coffee.

* * *

Meanwhile, Captain Kirk had landed on the surface of Neural along with Spock and Uhura. Kirk thanked the stars above him that the two of them were getting along again, as, whilst The Enterprise had less drama revolving around their silent fight, it did make away missions so much easier. He'd insisted on accompanying them in the guise of enforcing professional boundaries between the two of them. That comment had caused Chekov to hide a little innocent smirk, and Uhura to roll her eyes at him, before dutifully following him off the Bridge. Kirk had been surprised Spock hadn't objected to both the Captain and First Officer leaving the ship, spouting some protocol, or advice about it being an illogical and irresponsible course of action.

"Captain, whilst I assume you will ignore my advice, I am obligated to inform you this course of action is both irresponsible and illogical."

Ah. There is was. Kirk almost smiled at the plant life he was gathering, before acknowledging Spock's mandatory warning, albeit a late mandatory warning. Ah, the two fo them had gotten to know each other well over these past few years. Spock knew him so well, or Spock at least knew Kirk's compulsive inability to follow rules he disagreed with. He looked up to gaze admirably at his First Officer, when a high pitched scream flooded his ears and he saw a blue shirted figure be flung across the clearing.

* * *

Sulu had sat in the Captain's chair, slightly bored, and waiting for Kirk's command to beam the away team back on board, when they were hit with some slight complications. The transporter's locking system had malfunctioned, and they were no longer able to lock on to the away team. Sulu was just relieved that the away team weren't due back for another two hours, and Scotty assured him it would be fixed by then and the captain need not know that Sulu broke his ship.

"Sulu beam us up!" Kirk's voice screeched over the comm.

Well. _Shit._

"Slight problem there, Captain," Sulu winced. "We can't lock on to your location."

"WHAT?!"

"The transporter's locking device is faulty, we'll fix it as soon as we can, just hang on!" Sulu talked rapidly, his words tumbling over each other.

"Hurry, we have casualties here!" Kirk's voice was panicky and stressed as Hannah entered the bridge, for once actually wearing something resembling Star Fleet uniform.

"If they have casualties, can you send someone down?" Hannah suggested. "You don't need precision for that." Sulu nodded at her, but his opinion was overridden by Kirk's spluttering of;

"No!"

"Captain, it makes sense," Sulu interjected. "Hannah is trained in both human and Vulcan physiology, she could be useful." A moment of silence.

"Okay, fine- just hurry up!"

Hannah took her cue, and ran out of the Bridge towards the Transporter Room.

* * *

Disorientated for half a second, Hannah glanced around the woodland, hoping for signs of life. Noting the trail of stomped flat flora, Hannah broke into a sprint, Med Kit in one hand, phaser in the other. She burst into a clearing in less than 10 seconds, the leaves whipping clear of her sight to reveal a large, hairy beast creature terrorising the Captain and Uhura. Another of these creatures was beginning to emerge from behind them, clawed paw outstretched. Hannah let out a warning cry to the two Star Fleet officers, and headed over towards them. She spotted the First Officer lying on the ground by the shuttle they had taken down to the planet, and rushed towards him instead. She quickly analysed his condition, lifting his head in her heads, and forcing his eyes open. Glad to see a normal reflex, she hauled him up on to her shoulder, and struggled the ten steps inside the shuttle, and placed him gently on the floor inside. A white furry paw reached inside, and Hannah whacked it with the Med Kit, the metal connecting with tissue with a solid, painful _thwack._ A grimace formed on Hannah's face, as she inspected the Vulcan lying on the ground. A green tinge had formed at the side of Spock's head, up by his temple, and his emerald blood stained his shirt. Hannah found the wound, and pressed a bandage into it, holding pressure on it, praying it would stem the bleeding. She then whirled around, and moved back out, phaser straight ahead of her.

* * *

Turns out Mugatos were harder to stun than the average organism, Hannah sent Uhura, blood dripping from her temple, inside the shuttle to care for herself and the first Officer. Between the three of them, they had taken down one of the hulking white beasts, but the other circled Kirk and Hannah like a cat would circle a trapped rabbit. Hannah glanced sideway at Kirk, trying to assess his state, but couldn't tear her gaze away from the Mugato long enough to tell if he was okay or not. Out the corner of her eye, she spotted Spock struggling upright, and called a threat to him;

"Spock, if you dare try to leave that shuttle, I will shoot you myself." Spock, surprisingly, sat back down. Uhura pressed her hands into his shoulder, and watched the Captain and Hannah with fear and awe. The Mugato's gaze was now solely on Hannah and it stalked towards her. Hannah smiled menacingly, bared teeth emanating the sneer of the Mugato, and flung her body to the side. She scrambled up a tree, moving just fast enough to stay out of the reach of the Mugato, and on to the roof of the shuttle. Spock and Uhura could hear the clattering of feet above them, the sound echoing around the hull of the shuttle, pounding out a rhythm similar to the panicked fluttering of Uhura's heart. When the Mugato opened it's mouth to roar at Hannah, she shot it directly in the mouth. The beast fell backwards, stunned. The huge mass landed on the floor, in a definitive clod of dust. The plant life around it seemed to be ripped from their roots with the sheer force of its landing, and the impact threw Kirk back a metre. Hannah leapt off the end of the shuttle, landing squint on her foot, but not allowing herself to acknowledge the pain until all her patients were back on the Enterprise. Miraculously, Kirk was unharmed. His shirt could not say the same, however, and Hannah couldn't stop her gaze from dropping ever-so-slightly to the abdomen of her Captain. Through the ripped fabric, she could see the scar she formed by sowing his flesh back together.

"You're bleeding," Kirk stated, lifting a hand to Hannah's chin and tilting her head to see the cut. Hannah grasped his wrist, and pushed the hand away.

"You're okay?" Her words were less certain, but luckily they received a positive response. Her face broke into a relieved smile. "Home?" She suggested quietly. The single word took both Kirk and Hannah by surprise, neither one of them expecting her to refer to The Enterprise as home, yet that was what it was. To the Captain, to the crew, and to the stowaways they had accumulated along the way. Never fixed in one position, roaming restlessly through the galaxy, The Enterprise was home to hundreds of people, and so they returned to it, gladly.


	10. Chapter 10

Back aboard the Enterprise, Kirk moved as if to move back to the Bridge. Hannah caught his arm, and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh no you don't," She chastised, almost a motherly element to her warning smile. She held on to his arm, the two of them paused outside the Transporter Room, hesitating over the direction in which to go. Hannah's smile broadened and she sang her next threat cheerily; "If you don't come with me, then I have to follow you to the Bridge." Kirk looked at her, and then wearily let his guard drop. He stopped resisting Hannah, and followed her, both in a weak smile and to the Med Bay. Hannah didn't let go of Kirk's arm until he was securely held within the confines of the Med Bay.

* * *

Kirk thanked the stars that it was Hannah looking him over, and not McCoy. Bones may have been his closest friend, but Kirk wasn't in the mood for being told how much like shit he looked today, and if Kirk was honest with himself, he wasn't sure his brain was functioning enough to understand McCoy's metaphors right now. Hannah just told him what to do, and performed the medical exam, noticeably, still preferring to rely on her own measurements than the tricorder's readings. Kirk stifled a yawn, and stretched out his aching back. Being thrown around by a Mugato was not fun work. Hannah frowned at the tricorder she had begrudgingly used.

"Oh no," She murmured. Kirk's head lifted slowly. He looked at her, defeated. "This is bad news, Jim."

"What is it?" He asked, monotonously, too tired to even add emotion into his voice. Hannah sat down on the bed beside him, and nudged him with her elbow, a playful smile dancing on her face again.

"You're exhausted, is what," She criticised the Captain, leaning forwards, and leaning on her elbows. She placed a hand on his own, and Kirk looked up at her. "When was the last time you genuinely had a break for more than… 5-6 hours?" Kirk could feel her eyes on him as he racked his brain. McCoy, passing by with a tray full of hyposprays, muttered under his breath;

"Since he became Captain?" His sardonic reply was met with a razor-edged glare from Hannah, but when she looked back to Kirk her eyes were full of sympathy.

"Jim," she began, her voice soft. "You can't run on empty forever."

"I am fine," Kirk dismissed, pushing himself up. Hannah caught his wrist and anchored him in the Med Bay, a weight to a fly-away balloon. She looked up at him, and spoke quietly.

"I know that tone, and I know that phrase." Her words were not said unkindly, but there was a steely undertone which made Kirk sink back on to the bed. "I know because I've used them before a hundred, thousand times. And every time its been a lie." Hannah released her grip on the Captain, and he looked at her, with no emotion in his gaze. Hannah stood up, and held out a hand to Kirk.

"Bedtime, Jim."

* * *

"I'm sure Sulu can cope for a few more hours," Hannah laughed, as the Captain tried to worm his way out of his medically mandated rest. "Will it make you feel better if the voice of reason stands by him all night?"

"I think Bones would kill me if I made him do that," Kirk broke into a slight laugh. Hannah grinned broadly, glad to finally see some sign of life back into Kirk. She let her laugh fade out faster than normal, however, as the sight of the door to the Captain's quarters came into sight. Kirk sighed again. "But what about Spoc-"

-"Spock will be fine. Mild concussions are very easy to deal with, inject this, scan for that, apply balm to the bruise and hey ho, you're done," Hannah cut across Kirk's protestation. She stopped walking, and squeezed Kirk's shoulder reassuringly. "Exhaustion is less easy, and more dangerous. We can't have you falling asleep in the chair, now can we?" Kirk let out a light chuckle, and opened the doors to his quarters.

"You wouldn't want to stay for a while, would you?" Kirk asked hopefully, turning in the doorway. Hannah's shoulders dropped slightly.

"Do you need me to read you a bedtime story?" She teased, but her teasing was weak. Tiredness seeped into her voice too now, the notion of sleep having cemented itself into her thoughts, and become her primary desire in life. Kirk smirked back at her, and answered,

"If that's what it takes for some company, then I won't object."

Hannah raised an eyebrow at the Captain, and burst out in hysterics. She walked into his room, and pulled Kirk into his room.

"Oh come in, before you say anything else stupid in a public place." Hannah laughed, and the door slid shut behind Kirk as he whirled around to face Hannah.

* * *

Hannah sat on the arm of Kirk's chair, glass in her hand. Her glass was half empty, and she grinned at Kirk, slightly too enthusiastically. Kirk sat on the chair itself, his own glass slightly more full than Hannah's, and smiling up at her slightly. Hannah talked animatedly, and gestured with her glass, nearly spilling her drink. Her and Kirk paused, and then burst out laughing. Kirk raised his free hand and covered his eyes with forefinger and thumb, giggling into his drink.

"Sorry," Hannah giggled, and slowly, carefully placed her glass on the floor, so as not to spill the scotch on Kirk. Kirk paused as she raised her head again, her face unnervingly close to his. "Hi," She spoke softly, looking up at Kirk, and teasing her lip between her teeth. She straightened back out her spine, and broke Kirk's gaze, pushing her hair back off her face. Kirk looked away from the young woman perched on his chair, and shuffled back further in his chair. As he moved, his foot nudged the glass Hannah had just placed on the floor, spilling it across the floor.

"Oops?" He winced. Hannah folded her arms, mock sternly- the false disapproving posture undermined by her grin.

"You know, in my halls, if you spilt someone else's drink, you had to do twenty press-ups as punishment," She suggested, smirking at him, challenging him. Kirk grinned right back at her, and dropped to the floor. He pumped out eight press-ups without pause, and Hannah grinned at him. "Okay, okay, you can stop!" She giggled. Kirk dropped his shoulder to the ground, and grinned up at her, squinting slightly. Hannah nudged him with her toe, and slipped on to the cushion of the chair. Kirk pushed himself up, folding his legs up to his chest.

"You're in my chair," Kirk grinned at her. Hannah raised an eyebrow at Kirk, stealing his drink immediately after he picked it up.

"You're not my Captain," she teased, draping her legs over the arm of the chair. Kirk scooped her up in his arms, and sat down in his chair instead, still holding on to Hannah. She grinned up at him, and slowly, deliberately drank from his glass. She fidgeted, moving more upright but didn't move off his lap. Hannah draped an arm over Kirk's shoulder, glass dangling over the back of the chair, tilting away from Kirk's back. Kirk pushed a strand of hair off her face, and his fingertips lingered on Hannah's cheek. Kirk drew her face close to his own and kissed her.

* * *

Hannah's head rested on Kirk's chest, sleeping in the innocent sense of the term. This had been the only form their budding relationship had taken, teasing, innocence and a singular, solitary kiss. Kirk lay on his back, an arm wrapping around Hannah's shoulders, hand loose on her mid upper-arm. Sleepily, he placed a kiss on Hannah's head, and she curled further into him. She nestled close in with him, and he followed suit, both of them half-asleep. Hannah murmured quietly, speaking only to the bare chest her head rested upon;

"Go to sleep, Jim," she whispered, disrupting the quiet of the night. Kirk smiled slightly, and merely drew her closer to him. Hannah mimicked his sleepy smile, and closed her eyes once more and let sleep curl around the two of them.

* * *

"You look unnervingly cheerful." McCoy's drawl greeted Hannah as she danced into the Med Bay. She grinned at McCoy maniacally, widening her eyes cartoonishly, and bearing her teeth. McCoy blinked. "You made it so much worse." Hannah reverted her face back to her normal, albeit more upbeat than usual, expression.

"I'm sorry, Mumma McCoy. I forgot emotion made you feel deeply uncomfortable," She joked, sliding on to one of the beds in the Med Bay. McCoy raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed, but his attitude didn't affect Hannah's mood in the slightest.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" McCoy resolved himself to ask, and leant over his desk. Hannah grinned secretively at him and winked at him. McCoy rolled his eyes and groaned. "And here I was thinking you'd know better."

"Don't know what you're on about," Hannah sang. She grinned at him, seemingly taunting him for information. "And is there anything you want me to do, or are we just going to sit and gossip all day?"

* * *

They sat there and gossiped the day away. McCoy's probing questions about her night in the Captain's quarters were not scandalous enough to entertain McCoy for long, and so the topic of conversation moved away to Hannah demanding to know;

"How do Spock and Uhura even work?" Hands thrown exasperatedly in the air as she spoke. McCoy had suggested her talent for xenolinguistics had allowed Uhura to translate 'Spock'. Hannah had laughed, clapping her hands together in delight, at the CMO's dry response. Their conversation ebbed and flowed, moving through most of the crew, analysing their relationships- which they thought would last after this five year mission, which would end in a deliciously dramatic fight. Upon McCoy admitting that Sulu appeared to actually be a pretty good father and husband, Hannah decided to turn the conversation to McCoy's personal life, and ran into a brick wall. McCoy's laughter died on his face, and he almost grimaced.

"Don't really have one, not since the ex-wife left me," He answered, vaguely. An answer which elicited so many questions, yet his tone made the phrase closed to any further probing. Hannah paused, and answered, soberly for once.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Her apology seemed deeply sincere, and McCoy looked back up to her. With a nonchalant shrug, he dismissed it.

"Yeah, well, we only have ten minutes left of this shift and then we can go eat, so don't be all mournful for long." Hannah grinned back at the CMO.

"It's like you don't know me at all," She laughed. "When am I ever serious?"

* * *

Uhura sidled into the seat opposite Hannah in the Mess Hall, and beamed at her. Hannah paused, hand hovering with a forkful of rice on its way to her mouth, and raised an eyebrow at the woman.

"You missed the funniest thing I have ever seen in my entire life," Uhura announced. Sulu, placing a plate down next to her, rolled his eyes and muttered;

"It wasn't _that_ funny." Uhura grinned even wider.

"We were all having a nice, relaxed hour, with not much to do and no apparent imminent disasters," Uhura began, Hannah's hand still paused, but her mouth slowly forming an intrigued grin. "When suddenly, out of nowhere, there is this huge THUD. And I turn around to see Sulu, lying sprawled out on the floor and Chekov is crying with laughter. Turns out, this guy, this guy right here," She gestured at Sulu with her fork, "Managed to fall off his chair trying to adjust the course."

"I did not sprawl on the floor!" Sulu objected. Uhura began giggling and shook her head.

"You were sprawled, admit it," She sniggered.

"I may have slid. A little," Sulu amended. He paused, and then quickly added. "On an unrelated note, should a bruise be warm to the touch, asking for a friend." Now Hannah and McCoy joined in the laughter along with Uhura, McCoy's laughing was a quiet, almost inaudible laugh, but visible on his whole face. Hannah, however, inelegantly snorted and didn't attempt to restrain the bubbles of laughter that spilt from her. Sulu relinquished his stance of adamant denial, and allowed a snigger to break into the air. The four of them lulled into an easy conversation after that, trading stories about the events that occurred on their shifts.

* * *

Hannah sat alone in Med Bay. The quiet hum of the ship enveloped her in a welcome embrace, and she allowed it to wash through her. Closing her eyes, she leant her head back against the leather of the chair and simply, listened. It was almost peaceful, here, on the false-night. Time meant nothing on a space ship. There was no rotation of a planet to set your days by, no rising or setting sun. Years were not true years, after all, The Enterprise orbited no star, how could it have a year. Time was what an individual made of it, yet the comfort of a familiar routine caused there to be a 'day' shift and a 'night' shift. And the night shift was blissfully dull. The boredom was soothing; even something as manic and improbable as a space ship could be boring. Hannah kept her eyes closed. To an outside observer, she looked almost asleep, yet her ears were tuned into every creak, every vibration. Had she been a cat, her ears may have rotated to each new sound. The doors slid open, and Hannah slowly raised the eyelid of her right eye, peering through her eyelashes at the intruder. Spock stood in the doorway and waited, patient, his hands folded behind his back. Hannah's voice came out monotonous, almost robotic;

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

"There is no emergency,"

"Then what the hell do you want?" She rolled her head back to upright, and both her eyes opened warily. Looking the Vulcan straight in the eye, she pushed her frame into the back of the chair, pulling her leg off the arm of the chair. Returning to a normal sitting position, she raised an eyebrow, eerily similar to how Spock had so often raised his to her.

"I came to seek your medical opinion on a matter," He spoke slowly, almost hesitantly. Hannah's mouth formed a growing, interested grin. She waited, leaving Spock to elaborate to fill the silence. "The Captain's vital signs are changed. I was… concerned for his well-being." Spock removed his hands from behind his back, and handing a PADD to Hannah. She glanced down at it, and smirked.

"Oh, my dear Spock. You really do not need to be concerned about Kirk, he's perfectly fine," she giggled. "However, I am using these balance of hormones against him- and the fact that they concerned you." It was now Spock's turn to raise an eyebrow. Hannah looked up at him, and laughed. "You see these-" she pointed at three separate coloured lines- "serotonin, dopamine and acetylcholine, suggest that he's spending a lot of time daydreaming about something which makes him _very_ happy, and one may even say; something he loves. And I'm going to fine out what."

* * *

Kirk stared surprised at the young woman that walked into his room, uninvited and unannounced. Hannah grinned at him, holding aloft a PADD and shaking it at him. Kirk merely leant back on the chair he was sat in, and crossed his arms.

"You remember last time one of us walked into the other's room unexpectedly?" He prompted, "That didn't end so well." Hannah shrugged, and grinned wider.

"Ehhhh, all the fun parts were covered," She teased with a wink. "However, I have some interesting facts about you." Kirk's eyes grew wide, almost fearful. Hannah merely grinned maliciously at him, holding the PADD above her head. Kirk, abandoning his dignity, stood up and reached for it, but Hannah danced out of his way. Kirk lunged for it, yet Hannah skipped away yet again. She clutched it tightly to her chest, and pranced around the room, laughing and taunting Kirk. He joined in with her laughter, and managed to grasp one of her arms, pulling her closer to him. Hannah looked up at him, sliding the PADD behind her back, and standing on tiptoe whispered into his ear.

"What, or who, have you been thinking about to alter your brain chemistry so significantly?"

"Spock," Kirk answered, without missing a beat. Hannah grinned.

"Knew it, I'll have to tell Nyota," She sighed, holding her free hand to her chest, feigning concern. Kirk frowned.

"How did you find out her first name so quickly?" He demanded, furrowing his brow in a sulk. Hannah grinned, and sauntered backwards, answering him with nothing more than a tantalising wink.


	11. Chapter 11

McCoy spied Hannah in the Mess Hall, head bent over a PADD, coffee sat half-drained on the table in front of her. She sat with her legs crossed on the chair, and her mouth moved rapidly, but no words came out. He slid into the seat opposite her, expecting a response, but received none.

"Most people would go straight to bed after a 12 hour night shift," He commented dryly. Hannah barely glanced up at him, grabbing the coffee mug greedily and gulping down at least half of its contents. As she placed it back on the table, she deigned him with a response;

"I'm not most people. I am one people. One person. Whatever, words are hard." Her words tumbled out of her mouth, mumbled and barely recognisable. McCoy pushed on the screen of her PADD, forcing the device on to the table and stared sternly at her.

"You can't vaccinate a planet with no goddamn vaccines," He chided. Hannah merely blinked at him. "You can't run on empty- go to bed!" McCoy elaborated. Hannah rolled her eyes and picked the PADD back up, her actions response enough. McCoy folded his arms, leaning back in the chair and merely watched her, disapproval clear in his eyes. Hannah looked up slowly from her PADD, and glared at McCoy.

"I am not tired," She insisted stubbornly. "And I have a lot of reading to catch up on if I'm going to be useful here."

"You've learnt all of Vulcan anatomy, Romulan anatomy, how to use all the equipment, and all the Star Fleet protocols and you've been here, what, a month and a half? Two months?"

"74 days actually," Hannah answered, immediately, barely even pausing to think. "And I mean, technically all I've done is memorise it. I understand nothing." McCoy groaned.

"It's like having a second Spock," He muttered, before snapping his gaze back on to Hannah. "But don't side track me. This-" He took the PADD out her hand, and crossed his arms, -"is not essential, sleep is. You criticised Jim for a lack of sleep. Practise what you preach."

* * *

Hannah's attempts to sleep were futile. She acted out the motions of going to bed; she got changed into pyjamas, brushed her teeth, plaited her hair into a long braid so she didn't end up accidentally inhaling it… but still sleep eluded her. Her brain was too wired, and every time she closed her eyes, she was forced to relive a different memory. She was almost grateful when a summons to Engineering gave her a reason to leave her quarters. Scotty explained that McCoy would judge him for breaking his hand sticking it somewhere it didn't belong again. She dutifully trudged out her room, retying her hair, and asking Scotty where he'd tried to stick his hand this time:

"Is it a burn I'm treating or a contusion?"

"Welllll…" Hannah closed her eyes and shook her head, knowing the Chief Engineering couldn't see her, but hoping her exasperation still transmitted itself through the ship.

* * *

Kirk sat at the table in his quarters, a glass of something in his hand. He wasn't entirely sure what he was drinking- it tasted almost like brandy, but somehow both better and worse. The taste however, was not the purpose of the drink. He wanted nothing more than to just be able to not be the Captain of a ship stuck out in deep space for five minutes. He missed the ground. He missed the possibility of going somewhere outside of this metal can named The Enterprise. Adventuring into the unknown was fine, until two members of his Bridge crew stopped talking to each other- Sulu and Chekov had refused to speak to each other in days, and both refused to explain why. It was petty and childish, and was driving Kirk insane. He'd also had to deal with repetitious encounters with the same parts of the ship breaking again and again, the same computer malfunctions announcing a self-destruct when none was initiated. Even when he did go on an away mission to a new planet, he was always spouting the same diplomatic drivel as usual, or collecting the same samples. Nothing new had happened since they had accidentally acquired Hannah, and he simply didn't know how he felt about her.

* * *

Hannah gave up pretending to be awake. She rubbed the heel of her hand aggressively into her eye socket, and groaned. Her limbs sagged with exhaustion, but her brain was too wired for her to sleep. She almost regretted the coffee, but it was better than the alternative. The infection that had caused her to hallucinate was finally starting to wear off, after a month in hell. Of course she had told Kirk and McCoy she was fine, and that it wasn't still affecting her- after all, it shouldn't have been. McCoy had told her all traces of the bacteria was gone, and so really the hallucinations should have stopped, yet they pestered her still. Ever too proud to admit she needed help, Hannah had gone on ignoring them, only acknowledging the figures she saw in the privacy of her room, where she could rage at them, and cry and fight them tooth and nail as much as she wished.

"Are you okay?" Kes, a kind red-shirt, broke Hannah out of her self-pitying daydream. Hannah nodded slowly, closing her eyes briefly.

"Just tired, I haven't been sleeping well." Technically, Hannah didn't lie. She hadn't been sleeping well, but that was due to her own insistence on staying awake. Kes squeezed her shoulders swiftly in a one-armed hug.

"Go get some rest," She ordered Hannah, not-unkindly. Hannah smiled at her, and turned to leave Engineering. She didn't go to bed.

* * *

12 hours later, Hannah still hadn't slept. She darted through the Med Bay, in an odd way grateful for the influx of casualties, because at least it kept her brain occupied. As long as she kept moving, just moving, she would be fine. Grab that tricorder. Inject them with that hypospray. Next patient- not a priority, move on. She could do this, she was fine. Everything was okay, she just needed to treat this burn, and get Wilson to stop whimpering pathetically. The burn wasn't even that severe, it was only a first degree burn- Hannah mentally scolded herself as she thought that. An injury was an injury, pain affected people differently. Her pain didn't detract from his, she just needed to do her job and not judge.

"Jim, what the hell is going on?" McCoy faintly demanded in the background, as two more injured crew members were delivered into the Med Bay, supported by two either side of them.

"Consoles. Overhea-" gasped out the woman Hannah grasped. Hannah shushed her, and grabbed a tricorder.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't try to talk, you're gonna be okay." Hannah's empty words of reassurance seemed to work. She ran the tricorder over the bright green skin of her patient, and looked up at Hendorff who'd delivered her to Hannah.

"All systems had a major energy surge, most decks had damage of some kind. A lot of the crew is injured- especially in engineering," Hendorff explained quickly, before turning and leaving. Hannah injected the woman with a pain killer, and anti-inflammatory agent, before inspecting her burns closer.

* * *

Drained and sweating, Hannah stumbled out of Med Bay, resorting to finally go to bed and sleep. She'd been awake for well over 48 hours now, and the exhaustion had set into every single crevice of her body. She walked close to the wall, almost leaning on it for support when Kirk ran into her. Literally. She bounced off his frame, falling to the floor in shock. He offered her a hand, and Hannah thankfully took it, allowing him to pull her back upright.

"Please tell me nothing else is going to go wrong," Hannah pleaded, looking up at Kirk with heavy-lidded eyes, deep purple circles encasing her eye sockets.

"Don't think so," Kirk answered, slightly curtly. Hannah took half a step away from him, unable to resist the instinctive reaction to his hostility. Kirk frowned, and paused. "Is everything okay?" The change in tone almost made Hannah break down on the spot into a sobbing mess, but she choked back the flood of emotion that suddenly swamped her. She nodded, and mumbled a response about just being tired as she trudged away from the Captain.

The door demanded attention just as Hannah sat on her bed.

"Come in," she groaned, reluctantly admitting the unknown visitor at the door. The door slid open, and the Captain walked in. Hannah frowned. "Captain, look, I'm not in the mood for a lecture or whatever, I am so tired-"

-"I know." Kirk cut across her. "And I remember you said you don't sleep well alone, so-" Kirk hesitated, and pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. "-I don't know, would you like some company? I promise I will behave." Hannah's expression didn't change. She merely stared at Kirk, unblinking, for an entire minute. The minute passed in an eternity. Kirk opened his mouth to speak again at the exact moment Hannah sighed and nodded.

"Please," She whispered, her pride deserting her finally at the prospect of actually being able to truly sleep again. Kirk's heart broke, seeing the frailty of the woman sat before him as her shoulders drooped and her head sank down towards her shoulders. He was barely even conscious of his movement as he came and sat down next to her, but he did register the weight of the head that rested against his shoulder. He felt the depth of her weary sigh as she relaxed, her frame sinking on to his, and he slowly moved an arm around her waist, murmuring words of no consequence into her ear.

* * *

Hannah woke, for the first time that week, naturally. She was not jolted awake by some terrible dream, nor summoned to the Med Bay. She merely woke up, and it was heavenly. She slowly opened her eyes, looking up to the ceiling, calm, content. Then the prickling sensation that she was not alone pestered her neck. She sat up and scanned the room, only to see a ghost sat in the chair facing her.

"Miss me?" He drawled, a cruel smile warping his features into something not quite human. His eyes were too cold, his mouth too hard, and there was something implacable _wrong_ about him. He tilted his head, looking at her with those piercing, mean little eyes. "Or perhaps you miss baby Aimee more?"

"Shut up." The words fired from Hannah's mouth before she had realised she spoke. She glowered at the figure as it crept towards her, growing larger, dominating the room. Hannah did not move. She merely watched it, wary of those cruel eyes, reminding herself over and over that this was not real, this was merely her brain playing tricks on her again. "You are dead. You can't hurt me."

"Are you sure about that, sweetheart?" The man purred, drawing closer to her bed. "I might not be able to touch you, but I never needed that to hurt you. Little Hannah could always cope with so much pain, but she was _weak,_ so weak she couldn't even protect a little girl from big bad me." Hannah drew her gaze away from the man, and closed her eyes. She breathed out, a long, slow, shaking breath. Steading herself, she pressed a hand over her heart, willing it to slow down. Her index finger twitched on her collarbone as she let out a second deep breath.

* * *

"Hannah?" Hannah opened one eye, suspicion ruling her motion. The Captain sat in her bed, propped up on his left elbow and looking at her, brow furrowed. Hannah groaned and closed her eye again. She dropped her head on to her knees, and groaned, clapping her hands over her ears.

"This is new. And worse," She moaned, her voice muffled by her knees. "Go back to Liam, I can at least handle Liam." She peeked out from her defensive position, cradling her knees. Kirk was still there, looking concerned and adorable as always. Hannah lifted her head and turned to look at the apparition.

"Who's Liam?" The Kirk-figure asked. Hannah rolled her eyes and sat back, folding her arms grouchily.

"Oh come on, for a creation of my own brain, you can do better. Aren't you going to guilt trip me about not belonging here, about not belonging anywhere here and being delusional enough to think I could ever be part of your crew?" Hannah laughed, but there was no mirth in her laugh. Hollowness echoed around her quarters, as Kirk sat up to look at her better. Hannah mock-gasped. "Or why don't you talk to me about how I was foolish enough to actually care for you, and think it could be reciprocated, and aww is that love? How naive. How fucking-" Hannah's voice broke off, as hysteria rose in her. Kirk instinctually reached for her, but she flinched away. Despite her movement away, his fingers still caught the side of her hand as she flung herself off the bed. Hannah paused, and turned back to look at him, horrified.

"What are you talking about?" Kirk pleaded with her, almost fearful of the ramblings of the young woman before him. Hannah merely stared at her hand, Kirk's fear mirrored in her own frozen expression. Her other hand shot up to her mouth, as she stifled a cry, biting down on her finger. Pain radiated through her, and the pain was grounding.

"Please tell me you are not really here," Hannah whispered. Kirk pushed himself off her bed, and grasped her by the shoulders. Hannah flinched at the touch, feeling the warmth of his hands, the scrape of calluses against her bare shoulder. "Oh God," She unconsciously breathed.

"I am really here," Kirk assured her, looking into her face deeply, scanning for anything that would help him understand the situation. "What did you think I was?"

"Get out."

"What?" Kirk blinked. Hannah ripped herself away from Kirk, and pushed him roughly away.

"Get out, go. Just-Just leave. Please," She begged, her words torn, half-formed. Her throat swelled and she couldn't speak anymore. Kirk turned, looking at the husk of a girl that fled from him, and then left.

* * *

Kirk went to the one person who always seemed to understand everything; Spock. Unfortunately for Kirk, emotions were not Spock's strong suit, so understanding the emotion-driven woman was not going to be aided by the Vulcan. Kirk still tried him, and used him merely as a sounding-board for working out his own reaction to the strange situation he had just left. Leaving Spock's room, with only the extra information that Hannah seemed to be suffering from the effects of extreme trauma, Kirk felt disorientated, lost almost. He meandered back to his own room, only to find the woman he'd left behind standing there. Hannah held her right arm in her left hand, hugging it close to her body. Her toes pointed slightly inwards, giving her the appearance of being pigeon-toed, the toes of her upper foot curling in on themselves so much that they bent the shoe encasing them.

"I'm sorry, that must have been… weird," She spoke quickly, quietly. Kirk merely nodded. Hannah stared at him for a moment, and then let her words spill from her in a frantic rush. "Remember that virus-bacteria… whatever- that thing that made me hallucinate, well it brought a lot of things to the surface- things I havenae had to deal with for years, and well, I didnae. -Deal with them, I mean, at least no the fist time around…" Hannah trailed off, seemingly running out of breath. Breathing deeply, and quickly, and she finished with; "And now I cannae deal with them. I don't know how." Kirk didn't respond to her, after all, how do you respond to that? Hannah paused, and then nodded, largely to herself.

"Well. I'm going to go then." The words were becoming more and more heavily accented, her Scottish roots overhauling her words and making them near impossible to understand. Hannah spun and fled the corridor, walking away quickly, clinging to the edges of the corridors, her head down.

* * *

Hannah was so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she almost didn't notice the young Ensign sat alone in the Mess Hall. The room was otherwise deserted, silent and still, yet the chair Hannah veered towards was the one Chekov sat in. Her eyes snapping into focus at the last second, she abruptly changed course and sat down next to him. Both of them looked a little bit shell-shocked, dismay drooping their heads. The normally upbeat ensign didn't speak, merely stared into the dregs of his cup. Hannah dragged her gaze up to look at Chekov, alarmed by his uncharacteristic quietness.

"You look about as rough as I feel," She said, mostly to break the silence. Chekov jolted back to the present, and looked at her: the gaze of a startled deer fixed on the source of the noise. Hannah blinked, and reached out for the Ensign. "Is everything okay?" Words failed Chekov. He opened his mouth as though to speak, and then closed it. Hannah squeezed his hand, and let go of it, returning it to the glass of amber liquid.

"Today is the anniwersary of the destruction of Wulcan." Chekov's voice was almost too quiet for Hannah to hear. She craned her head to listen to his words, and leant forwards on the table. "Spock's mother…" he trailed off, unable or uncertainty as to how to finish his sentence.

"Chekov, I'm so sorry," Hannah whispered, getting up and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. The young Russian raised a hand to her arms, and held her against him tightly, the hug providing much needed comfort and reassurance- reassurance he didn't realise he still needed. Hannah didn't let go until Chekov's arm dropped back to the table, and even then she still watched him warily, concerned. Knowing the burden of a having a death on one's hands, the two of them sat together, largely silent, for the next few hours. Words did not need to fly, for company was all they needed; simply to know they were not alone.


	12. Chapter 12

Hannah avoided Kirk the best she could. Which given they were trapped on a relatively small space ship was not particularly successful. It also wasn't helped by McCoy, who had reached the stage of boredom that he wanted to watch some drama unfold. They had begun their return trip to Yorktown, and so that meant no more planet visits- and thereby no change of scenery for McCoy. There had also been a record length of time between dramatic malfunctions of equipment, so the Med Bay had been relatively quiet. That was truly surprising, a whole week had passed with no console exploding, no dramatic fires in implausible places. Hell, Kirk hadn't even tried to get himself killed in a stupidly bizarre way in a concerningly long time. McCoy was almost worried his friend had matured, and decided to start following the rules. There was just the odd illness for McCoy to treat. It almost made him miss the days where he had to think of new ways to Stop Jim Doing The Thing, so instead he simply irritated Hannah with an abundance of metaphors.

"Kirk, get down here. You're gonna want to see this," McCoy insisted into his comm badge. Kirk's groan was audible throughout the whole of the Med Bay.

"Last time you said that, there were people in torpedoes. Is this worse or better?" Hannah heard Kirk respond. At the sound of his voice, Hannah panicked. She was not prepared to deal with Kirk right now. He would try to _talk_ to her, see if she was okay. Ugh, he'd probably be understanding about it too, and that was not what she wanted. So she did the only thing she could think to do. She hid in an air vent out of pure spite and fear.

* * *

Kirk walked into Med Bay, and crossed his arms. Looking over at McCoy, who sat at his desk tapping away at a PADD.

"What am I supposed to be looking at, Bones?" He drawled, refusing to move any closer to the CMO, purely out of spite. After all, this was the third time today McCoy had called him to Med Bay for unnecessary reasons. McCoy looked up at him, and then returned to typing.

"Give me a minute," He held a hand up to the Captain. Kirk looked at it with such bewilderment that McCoy could barely keep a straight face.

"No," Kirk spoke sharply, raising an eyebrow at his friend. "Show me, and let me get back to the bridge." McCoy relinquished his attempts to drag out Kirk's visit and stood up, moving around his desk and towards the Captain. He gestured Kirk over towards the Medical Beds, and began to speak:

"When I first called you down I was going to show you a bacterium I found which produces the exact proteins needed to make the perfect scotch," he started, stopping at the wall. He then grinned at Kirk, and yanked the cover off the air vent. "Then Hannah heard me, and decided to hide in an air vent, and I thought that was funnier." Kirk rolled his eyes, and crouched down to get a better look.

"There is no one in there," He looked up to the CMO and raised an eyebrow. McCoy grinned wider.

"Oh yes there is. Hannah, I can see your shoes, you're not very well hidden," McCoy mocked. Then he paused, and moved to the sides slightly. Frowning, he spoke again. "Computer, locate Hannah,"

"Ensign Hannah is in Med Bay," The computer and Hannah chorused, slightly out of sync. McCoy wheeled around and stared at the young woman. She winked, and jumped on to the med bed next to him, crossing her legs and stretching her shoeless-toes.

"A, I'm an Ensign? Exciting. And B, ohh McCoy, you didn't think I'd _stay_ in the air vent when I noticed you watching me? Nah, Mumma McCoy, I went for a walk." She paused, tilted her head, and then amended. "Well, a crawl, really. Hello, Captain, Goodbye, Captain." Hannah pointed to the door. Kirk straightened up, and took the air vent cover back off McCoy, swiftly refitting it. Hannah's arm remained outstretched, a finger pointed to the door. Kirk looked at the pointed finger, and then sat down on the bed next to her.

"No," He insisted. Hannah immediately hopped back off the bed.

"In that case, McCoy I am suddenly very ill. I can treat myself, but it is highly contagious so I'm confining myself to quarters," She strode towards the door, and with a look back to Kirk, so pointed and implaceably blank that it wounded him. Hannah did not fake a cough, but literally said the words 'cough, cough' before turning back around, and twiddled her fingers over her shoulder.

"Toodles, Mumma McCoy!" She chirped, cheeriness faked into her voice to such an extent that it sickened even her.

* * *

McCoy turned to face Kirk, and now it was his turn to raise the eyebrow.

"What did you do?" He asked, sitting down next to his friend. Kirk sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Nothing. I think," Kirk frowned. "I don't know," genuine puzzlement furrowed his brow, and he stood up. Tugging down on his shirt to straighten it, he turned away from the CMO.

"Did you accidentally insult her?" McCoy offered. His eyes widened. "Did she you and Spock being adorable and get jealous?" He looked at the Captain eagerly, the usual weary expression gone from his face. Kirk's frown grew, and he walked towards the door, dismissing McCoy's retort with a wave of his hand. He strode out of the Med Bay, leaving McCoy alone to laugh to himself. McCoy wandered back towards his desk, but barely reached it before Kirk's head reappeared at the door into Med Bay.

"You don't genuinely think it was the Spock thing, do you?" Kirk asked, causing only a laugh from McCoy. "Bones, you're an ass," Kirk grumbled, leaving the Med Bay for the last time. McCoy laughed, and with a shake of his head, spoke through to comms to Hannah.

"You can come back now, Kirk is gone."

"Don't wanna."

"You have to. I'm your superior officer, _Ensign_ Hannah," McCoy grinned. Oh, he loved pulling rank.

* * *

Hannah slinked into the Mess Hall, looking around suspiciously for Kirk. Seeing he wasn't there, she sighed, relief pouring through her as she moved towards the sole thing getting her through this week; the prospect of more coffee. And bacon. She was craving a good bacon roll, with the nice white rolls, with the flour dusting on top- oh and the melted butter that practically seeped through the roll on to her fingers as she ate it. Though she knew the replicators couldn't make a roll quite as perfect as the rolls from the bakery down the street from her, she was still going to eat the hell out of some bacon and no one could stop her. Hannah grinned at the thought of the bacon, and spoke her instructions to the replicator, the coffee first. Coffee was very important. It was how she survived the constant humiliation she inflicted upon herself. Oh, god, that interaction with Kirk was almost worse than the guilt tripping she got from Liam every day. She grabbed the coffee and bacon roll, and slid into the nearest seat, greedily gulping the coffee.

"We'll be back at Yorktown in two days," A voice spoke from behind her. Kirk. "Just, if you wanted to know,"

"Okay." Hannah did not look up from her coffee, instead taking an unnecessarily large bite of her roll to give an excuse for not replying. Kirk moved around the table, and sat in the chair next to her, pulling it closer to her.

"Hannah, look, I don't know what I said or did-"

-"Nothing. You didn't do anything wrong. Just, I did something abnormal and weird and I am not okay with talking to you about Liam and Aimee and everything that happened, but it isn't something which can be simply ignored," Hannah interrupted, looking at Kirk. Her mouth closed and formed a single, flat line. "I know I am being rude, but I _can't_ do this. Not right now," Kirk frowned at her.

"That is…" he began, looking away from her, as if hunting for the words in the air. "Incredibly selfish. But okay. If you want space," The words were not guilt-tripping, yet they evoked such a deep and cutting feeling in Hannah's stomach, that she almost called Kirk back when he stood, turned and walked away from her. Almost. Hannah watched the Captain walk away from her, and her heart panged with a feeling she could not place. She looked back down at her bacon sandwich, which suddenly didn't seem so appealing anymore.

"Fuck," She muttered, before stalking out of the Mess Hall, purposefully, pedantically leaving her half-full mug, and barely touched bacon roll behind. She faltered in her step, and then returned for the bacon sandwich. She might love Kirk, but she wasn't going to leave behind her bacon snadwich for him. She was lovesick, not stupid.

* * *

Kirk returned to his room after a particularly long day on the bridge, expecting nothing more than to fall into his bed. His eyes were bleary with the tiredness that came from an entire day of dealing with Spock, and reading dozens upon dozen of reports. His shoulders drooped with exhaustion, and his spine formed a slight curve as he staggered towards his room. Except his room wasn't empty. Stood in the middle of his room, mid way through turning to face the door, froze Hannah. She smiled weakly at the Captain, and explained simply;

"I was getting weird looks stood in the hall, and I didn't know how long you'd be?" She bit down on the inside of her lip, looking hopefully at Kirk. He didn't speak, merely walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses. Hannah faltered, then continued, twisting her hands together in front of her stomach. "I- I wanted to say sorry. For being incredibly selfish."

"You don't need to," Kirk dismissed her half-apology. Hannah dropped her hands and began speaking faster, more curtly.

"Well, of course I don't have to. A forced apology isn't an apology, it's just garbled words-" She cut herself off abruptly, and then restarted. "I mean it, Jim. I was being nothing more than a stupid, selfish brat. I thought you'd judge me- For how I acted- and that scared me. So I panicked," She sank on to the arm of the chair nearest her. She gazed down at the floor, refusing to meet Kirk's gaze, and so missed the sympathy that rolled off of Kirk. She also didn't notice him moving towards her, until he held the glass out in front of her nose. Hannah gratefully took the glass and smiled up at Kirk.

"Well, I accept your apology?" Kirk suggested with a smile, raising the glass to his lips. Hannah mimicked his action, saluting him with the glass before drinking from it. "I don't blame you for being hostile, and selfish." Hannah laughed, and looked away awkwardly.

"Forgive me?" She raised an eyebrow hopefully, tilting her head and looking up at him. Kirk tilted his head in the opposite direction, and pretended to muse it over. He leant to her, and lightly kissed her, before pulling away. Hannah followed his head back as he pulled away from her, and he grinned at her.

"I could do with some persuasion," Kirk teased. Hannah closed her eyes, and grinned a grin that expressed self-deprecating amusement and affection towards Kirk. She placed an arm over his shoulder, her forearm resting on his shoulder and glass tilting away from him behind his head. Hannah cupped his chin in her free hand, and slid it around to the back of his head, kissing him back.

* * *

Hannah lounged in Kirk's bed, looking up at him from her position lying on his chest. She trailed a spiral pattern along his bare forearm, drawing his attention to her. Their gazes met and Hannah smiled, continuing to trace spirals on him. Kirk brushed Hannah's hair back off her face, and smiled at her, trailing a thumb lightly down her cheek. Hannah lifted her hand to Kirk's face and brushed his forehead, the gentle touch almost tickling Kirk. He grasped her hand, and lightly pressed his lips to it.

"You're cute," Hannah murmured to him. Kirk grinned at her, and kissed her hand again.

"I know," He smirked. Hannah sat upright, and took her hand back, leaning on the bed either side of his head. She raised an eyebrow at him, leaning over him, her hair falling over her right shoulder in a cascade of brown curls.

"Did you just Han Solo me?" She asked, incredulously. Kirk glanced away from her, then back to her.

"I don't know what that means," He stage whispered at her. Hannah merely laughed, and leant down to kiss Kirk. Unfortunately, her hair decided to land on his face, so instead Kirk ended up spluttering and coughing in an attempt to get rid of her hair. Hannah pulled it back quickly, and swiftly wrapped it up into a bun. "That was attractive," Kirk laughed, before looking up at Hannah and faltering. Hannah grinned and burst out into hysterics, the bun on her head bouncing with each pearl of laughter that spilled from her.


	13. Chapter 13

The ship had docked, and the crew largely spilled out. McCoy was refusing to set foot in the "snow globe in space" particularly after Hannah had decided to ask him how much force would be required to break it. And then asked Scotty to confirm her maths (she had vastly overestimated how much force was necessary) following up with the hundreds of ways they could all die aboard the Snow Globe Of Death. Hannah now regretted this decision to wind up McCoy, as the Bridge Crew remained on the ship slightly longer than the rest of the crew- Kirk had told her why, but honestly at that point she was too tired to care, and hadn't listened to him- and the various other crew members she knew all seemed to have things to do, people to see. They all had families and friends outside of The Enterprise. Hell, Hannah hadn't been on a planet with space travel yet, how was she expected to know people. Or places. Or even how money worked. A panic rose through her chest, pounding her heart into a frenzy. Breathing out slowly, she watched the people she'd spent the last 7 months trapped on a ship with all disperse into the Snow Globe Of Death. Hannah loitered in the bay doors, mentally weighing up the pros and cons of leaving, and thereby guessing her way through society. Scotty cheerily waved across at her, a drink of some kind in his hand and Hannah grinned, moving towards him. A small tug on her dress haltered her step. A young girl looked shyly up at her. Hannah smiled, and knelt down to her level, mouthing a quick 'two minutes!' Over to Scotty.

"Are you from The Enterprise?" The little girl asked sweetly, looking down at the floor and holding her hands behind her back. She scuffed her shoes on the ground, staring stoically at them.

"I am," Hannah answered, kindness softening her words. She bent her head to look under the girl's hair and at her face, trying to gauge her reactions. "Are you looking for someone?" The little girl nodded.

"My Daddy," She answered, looking up at Hannah, her eyes wide.

"Okay. Did someone take you here?" Hannah asked, sitting back on her heels. The girl nodded again and pointed over to a cluster of chairs which Hannah presumed formed some form of cafe. She could see coffee mugs, and an abundance of possible parents of this little girl. Hannah stood up and held out her hand to the little girl.

"I'll tell you what, if you let me talk to the person that took you here, I will see if they'll let me help you find Daddy, okay?" The girl nodded eagerly in response, and Hannah smiled as she felt the little hand slid into her own.

* * *

Hannah coughed awkwardly, attracting the attention of the man hunting through the scattering of tables. He looked up at her, and then spied the hand attached to Hannah's own.

"Demora! Don't wander off like that!" He scolded, scooping the little girl up into his arms. He looked at Hannah, and let out a heady breath. "Thank you," He said, relief flooding his face. Hannah smiled, dismissing the thanks with a small hand gesture.

"It's not a problem, honestly," The man went to walk away, and Hannah quickly continued. "She mentioned her dad is on The Enterprise?" The man turned back around, and Hannah's smile faltered slightly before she continued. "Just, well, I could see if I could help her find him and surprise him is all?" The man paused, and then looked at the girl balanced on his hip.

"Do you want that, Demora?" He asked her, and when she nodded vigorously, he laughed, putting her down on the floor. "Okay then, tell Daddy I'm waiting for him here," Demora ran to Hannah and grinned up at her. The cheerfulness was contagious, and Hannah beamed back at her, offering a hand, which Demora clung on to like a shipwrecked sailer would hang on to a piece of floating debris.

"Sorry, um, who am I actually looking for?" Hannah laughed, embarrassment flushing through her.

"Hikaru Sulu!" Chirped little Demora. Hannah beamed at her, and then turned to the man she had just returned her to, and held out her free hand.

"That must make you Ben? I'm Hannah, it's good to meet you."

* * *

The doors of the turbo lift slid open, and Hannah held a finger to her lips to Demora. Uhura spied the young girl, tiptoeing behind Hannah out the turbo lift, and smothered a smile. Demora saw Uhura's gaze following her, and Uhura waved slightly, letting her smile stretch across her face. Hannah grinned and turned to Kirk.

"Captain Kirk, I have with me a _very important_ visitor," She announced. Kirk turned in his chair, and rolled his eyes. To his perception, Hannah was entirely alone and he raised an eyebrow at her, beginning to speak but she cut him off. "I am told she has travelled across the stars, journeying far and wide to find the greatest helmsman in the Universe," A small giggle was heard from behind Hannah. Kirk bit back his laughter at Hannah's theatrical performance. Sulu spun around in his chair and looked at her, confusion evident in his suspicious gaze.

"And naturally you brought your visitor to us, to Lieutenant Sulu?" Kirk offered. Hannah shook her head and leant on the railing behind Kirk.

"Nah, I told her Sulu was a terrible helmsman and that she should really look somewhere else," Hannah grinned at Sulu and winked at him. "But you see, Demora just insisted on Sulu for some reason." She lightly nudged Demora, who ran around to her father. Sulu grinned and scooped the young girl up into his arms. Demora let out a squeal of delight.

"Sulu," Kirk called, drawing his helmsman's attention. "Go on, we're docked. You're relieved," Sulu beamed and thanked the Captain before walking off the Bridge, his daughter perched on his hip. The turbo lift doors slid shut behind him, and Hannah, waiting to hear them seal, finally let out a squeaky, incoherent noise of some description. She clasped her hands over her mouth, and leant forwards on the railing, her feet scuffing at the floor. The hyperactive movement was contrasted beautifully by Spock's raising of an eyebrow.

"Ensign Cation, are you well?" He asked, watching her antics suddenly grind to a halt. She put her feet back on the ground and turned to Spock.

"Three things. One, please never call me Ensign Cation again that was fucking weird. Two, I go by my Mum's maiden name, Mortimer, so ya know. Future reference," She paused, and then grinned again. "How _cute_ is Sulu's daughter?!"

* * *

Hannah, long after the two minutes had transpired, sat down next to Scotty. She sighed and grinned at him, then nodded over to the family reunion happening in the cafe opposite. Scotty smiled at Sulu, his husband and daughter.

"Who'd have thought Sulu would be a good dad?" Hannah asked, leaning her elbow on the bar and resting her chin on her hand. Scotty laughed.

"You never saw him threatening Khan, I would hate to be the person that breaks that girl's heart when she grows up," He sniggered. Hannah frowned, causing Scotty to elaborate, repeating back Sulu's words in a terrible accent. "'If you test me, you will fail' It was so dramatic." Now it was Hannah's turn to laugh. Head still on her hand, she looked over at the happy family, trying to picture Sulu in the Captain's chair, but she couldn't do it. Instead, she looked back to Scotty and raised an eyebrow.

"So…" She drawled, grinning cheekily up at him. "You gonna buy me a drink?"

"Buy it yourself!" Scotty objected. Hannah lifted her head up and gestured at herself.

"With what money! It's not like I have a job, I am literally a stowaway," She reasoned, raising her eyebrow further. Scotty stared her down, and then finally complied. Hannah grinned at his retreating form, and let her head rest back on her hand.

* * *

Hannah nursed the second drink she had weaselled out of Scotty, promising that she would pay him back if she ever actually earned anything- or at least she would guilt trip someone else into buying his drinks for him in the future. Scotty had reluctantly accepted her deal for the second drink, but absolutely refused to buy her a third drink. Luckily for her, Kirk appeared as she was pleading, begging and manipulating Scotty into giving a third drink. He brought along McCoy, reluctantly following Kirk and grumbling to poor Chekov about how they were all going to die if this glass bauble burst.

"Play nice, I'll get this one," Kirk offered. "McCoy, will a drink stop you complaining?" McCoy tilted his head and thought about it, then nodded. Kirk turned to Chekov and raised an eyebrow, the offer clear. Chekov grinned hopefully in response, and Kirk let out something which resembled a half-formed laugh before heading to get the drinks. Chekov slid into the seat next to Hannah, who sat upright in her seat for a change and turned to look at him. Scotty on his other side spoke first;

"Hey kid, did I hear something about you leaving The Enterprise?"

"Yes, I am being transwerred to ze _Excalibur_ and promoted to Lieutenant Commander," Chekov beamed as Kirk returned with the drinks. A chorus of congratulations erupted from the group of crew members surrounding him. Scotty beamed proudly at the Ensign, and Kirk clapped Chekov on the back. Chekov practically fell of his chair with the force Kirk applied to his back. Kirk winced an apology and then handed him a glass. Chekov grinned, slightly maniacally and took the glass off the Captain. Kirk doled out the rest of the drinks and Hannah raised hers to Chekov, saluting him with the glass.

"Well, good luck Chekov, and congrats," She grinned, before essentially downing the glass in one go. McCoy grabbed the glass off her before she fully emptied the liquid from it, and looked at her aghast.

"Good God woman, are you _trying_ to put yourself in a coma?" He spluttered. Hannah raised an eyebrow and took the glass back off him.

"I have a very high alcohol tolerance. I came here to get pissed, I am not pissed as of yet," She explained with haughty eloquence.

* * *

Chekov had been bought at least 10 drinks in the space of two hours, and he was thoroughly wasted. He was struggling to stay upright, leaning on Scotty for support and giggling maniacally at nothing and everything. Spock had long since left the celebration, it having grown too rowdy and uncouth for his liking. Thankfully, Uhura remained and continued to celebrate both Chekov's promotion and The _Enterprise_ 's safe return to at least one Star Fleet outpost. She laughed loudly and freely with the other members of the crew, confidence radiating off her like heat. As various members of the crew drifted away, moving away to their beds or to someone they cared about, Kirk, Uhura, Hannah and Chekov remained. The four of them ended up slouched together, all sat on the same small couch, a table full of empty glasses in front of them. Chekov's words began blurring together, and so Hannah pushed her head up off Kirk's shoulder.

"I think it's time that little Pavel Chekov goes to bed," She murmured. Kirk grumbled incoherently, and so Hannah stood up herself. She grabbed hold of Chekov's arm and looped it over her shoulder. "Come on lil' Chekov. Beddybyes," The murmur of discontent from Chekov merely made Hannah laugh as she started to walk the young still-Ensign away from the huddle, dragging him towards his bed.

"Come back," Kirk whined, stretching out his arm dramatically. Hannah raised an eyebrow at the Captain and walked back the three feet towards Kirk. She lightly kissed Kirk on the cheek and whispered;

"Five minutes, and I'll be back. I promise," and with that she took the weight of Chekov back again, struggling to walk away from Kirk and Uhura.

* * *

Hannah returned, to find Uhura getting up and wandering off. In the wrong direction. Hannah turned her around by the shoulders, and pushed her towards her room, but not before Uhura grinned at Hannah and sang:

"Kirk likesss you," in a child-like manner. She held a finger to her lips as though she had revealed some great secret. Hannah laughed at her, and winked.

"I know," She stage-whispered. Uhura's jaw dropped and Hannah grinned widely. "Go on. Bedtime, Nyota." Uhura begrudgingly obligated, though she did still turn around and giggle at the two of them. Hannah sank back on to the couch with Kirk and looked at him.

"Have you ever noticed that Uhura turns into a 12 year old when she's been drinking?" Kirk commented, a wry smile. Hannah laughed.

"And Chekov starts getting very excited about physics, it's very cute," Hannah added, leaning into Kirk. He lifted an arm, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She turned her body slightly, so that she faced away from Kirk, but her full weight pressed against him. When she looked up, not only could she see Kirk looking down at her, but also the whole of the night sky rolled above them. Encased in a glass dome, Yorktown hung in space and Hannah could see every inch of space. Kirk smiled down at her, watching her watch the stars. Hannah's eyes trailed back to Kirk and she smiled.

"So if Uhura becomes a child, Chekov becomes a nerd, Scotty becomes an angry mess-"

-"Side effect of being Scottish," Hannah interrupted with a smirk. Kirk laughed slightly then continued;

"What kind of drunk am I?" He lifted an eyebrow at the end of his question, tone and eyebrow raising in unison. Hannah laughed and reached up, lightly tapping him on the nose.

"You," She said as she hit his nose, "Are a vigilante drunk. Will fight anyone and everyone if they give you a reason too," She explained. Kirk laughed and brushed her hand away from where it rested on the top of her head. He leant down and lightly kissed her.

"And you?"

"Oh, I'm a crier. And attention seeking," Hannah beamed. "I am the worst drunk ever," With that she sat back up, and pushed herself up off the couch. She held out her hands to Kirk, who slid his hands into hers and she hauled him upright. Hannah wandered over to the large glass window, not letting go of one of Kirk's hands. "But you knew that already," Kirk's face didn't change but his grip on Hannah's hand shifted slightly. It moved from being loosely held to a comforting presence, the pressure Hannah exerted on his hand mimicked back at her exactly.

"Did I?" Kirk's fake surprise was murmured into her hair as he pressed his face into her neck, lightly brushing his lips against her. Hannah's raised eyebrow was reflected back, distorted, in the mirror-like glass. She gazed out at the stars and mumbled an affirmative. "Ah yes, the tribble incident," Kirk breathed. "I remember that,"

"Unfortunately, so do I."

* * *

Hannah woke the next morning with a mild headache, and no clue what she was supposed to do with her life. Kirk was still asleep beside her, arm tucked under his head, using it as a pillow. He faced towards her, and barely even stirred as she slowly slid out from the covers. She crept towards the bathroom and sighed a breath of relief as she reached it without waking Kirk, as though she'd achieved some great feat. She knew that McCoy had some form of training (or was it teaching?) that he'd said he needed to do, Scotty was meeting up with some friends from the academy and Kirk had a meeting with Commodore Paris that took up most of the morning. Hannah had been hoping to sleep most of the day away, at least meaning there would be less dead- Aimee- time for her to kill- Kill- death-fight- Liam - panic— no. She pressed her head against the glass, the cold grounding her. Breathing out heavily through her nose, she closed her eyes and tried to blot those thoughts out. She pushed her hair back off her face, still keeping her forehead pressed against the mirror.

"Are you okay?" A voice asked tenderly from behind her, a hand pressing gently into the small of her back. Hannah peeled her head off the mirror and turned to look at Kirk, the sink now resting on her back, pulling the oversized t-shirt she wore up slightly. Hannah smiled weakly at Kirk, before raising herself on to tiptoe.

"I will be in a few minutes," She answered, tapping the side of her head. "Little fucker won't shut up this morning," With that she left the bathroom, forgetting why she'd gone in there in the first place, and stretched out her back, causing the t-shirt to creep up her thighs further.

"You wear my shirts better than me," Kirk teased, leaning against the doorframe. Hannah struck an overly dramatic pose, one arm raised high in the air.

"Damn right I do," She grinned over her shoulder, before skipping back to Kirk, and bouncing up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "And you have a meeting with the illustrious Commodore Paris to get to, so as much as it pains me, you have to get dressed." Hannah teased right back. Kirk kissed her one final time, and then began the hunt for his uniform. Hannah flopped back on to the bed and curled back up as if to go to sleep, but instead merely watched Kirk moving around the room. The sight of domestic life was oddly comforting and strange- it didn't make sense for her to be as at ease with her scenario as she was, but this morning routine felt exactly that. Routine. As though the two of them had been performing this ritual for years.


	14. Chapter 14

Hannah wandered aimlessly around the Starbase, looking for things to do, people to talk to. She was so bored, doing anything would be better than sitting alone in her and Kirk's room. Refusing to wear the official Star Fleet uniform, insisting 'a dumbass piece of plastic doesn't make me a Star Fleet Officer', she wandered around in comfort clothes- leggings and a sports vest. She seemed to subconsciously dress to go to the gym, feeling most at home in clothes that allowed her the freedom to move, to run, to fight. She was hugely relieved when she actually _found_ a gym, and so her subconscious lure towards exercise seemed justified. Grinning, she wandered inside and asked the first person she say if they fancied sparring with her. Commodore Paris was more than willing to comply, after all, people rarely were willing to engage in exercises that might harm a superior officer for fear of punishment. Luckily for her, Hannah had no idea who she was, and so had no qualms in sparring with the Commodore with everything she had. Unlucky for the Commodore, Hannah throwing everything she had into a fight usually meant her sparring partner ended up defeated and humiliated.

* * *

Both women wiped the sweat from their respective brows, and shook damp hands. Hannah grinned at Commodore Paris broadly;

"You put up a good fight," She praised, "I'm Hannah, what should I call you?" Commodore Paris frowned at her, drawing back her hand. Hannah's grin faltered.

"You don't know me?" Paris raised an eyebrow, looking at the young woman with such a deep scrutiny that Hannah felt unnerved. The intense gaze from Paris jolted Hannah, making her feel slightly off-balance, as though this were some tactic to catch her out. Hannah brushed the stray hairs that had escaped her bun back off her face, and rubbed the back of her neck before answering.

"No?" She apologised, biting the inside of her lip briefly, before continuing in a tumble of words. "Guessing that means, you're high up in the command- I'm sorry, I have no idea who you are." The raising of an eyebrow invited Paris to fill in with her name, and she almost laughed before she complied. Hannah smiled warmly at her, before faltering. She frowned, clearly puzzling something over in her mind.

"Yes, I am the Commodore assigned to Yorktown," Paris elaborated, breaking into a smile. Hannah's frown turned into discomfort almost immediately, as she began to stammer out an apology, trying to work out whether she was supposed to salute, or shake hands- or perhaps Star Fleet had developed a new mechanism of a respectful greeting. She let out a breath of relief when Paris held her hand out towards Hannah. "Pleasure to meet you, Captain Kirk speaks very highly of you." Hannah's eyebrow quirked upright, and she couldn't stop the smirk that spread across her face. Pride mingled with something she couldn't quite place, and it drew her gaze down towards the floor, heat flushing up her cheeks. She released Paris' hand quickly, almost too quickly, Hannah abruptly realised as she was met with a interested smirk. Hannah's face burned a brighter red, and still she wasn't entirely sure why.

* * *

The light that filled Yorktown was an unnatural white. It reflected sharply off surfaces, the glare of the artificial lights blinding those unused to the sheer brightness. The white light only accentuated the sheer volume of the Starbase, the sprawling lengths of the halls made larger still by the white surfaces. It seemed all too clinical and clean to Hannah, as she wandered its length. Uncertain of what she was searching for, she inspected every corridor, every unlocked room. Her nosiness would no doubt be her downfall, but she felt an unquenchable urge to find out everything about Yorktown. It seemed false to her, an illusion. Whilst she had, over previous months, questioned whether the reality of her situation, this seemed to be excessively unlikely. Yorktown felt too clean for this volume of people- the walls of sound that hit her whenever she returned to the main squares felt like being back in Edinburgh. But there was no abandoned food wrappers, no coffee cups left on any horizontal surface. It was missing the grime of an urban location. She found herself almost hoping to find something scrawled on the inside door of a toilet, but no such luck. This place, run by a human-dominated staff, seemed endlessly alien.

And of course, every time she looked out a window, she was reminded that Yorktown was nothing more than a glass bauble, dangling precariously in space. Hannah almost longed for the cramped rooms of her university accommodation. At least that was grounded- well, sure, the tumble dryer did set on fire that one time, and the oven had a habit of turning itself off mid way through cooking a meal- but at least it was on the ground. Stability was something Hannah was never going to take for granted again, provided of course, she ever found a place she could feel at home enough to be stable.

* * *

Hannah somehow ran into Scotty and Keenser, glad to see them without a whole cohort of unknown people. She grinned at them, and let her existential crisis drift away from her, choosing instead to go get pissed with the Chief Engineer and whatever Keenser was. She was eternally glad for the distraction and the excuse to drink to her heart's content, after all, she had spent far too much time recently solely in Kirk's company, and their almost-relationship was starting to concern her. She didn't know quite what they were doing, and she definitely wasn't delving into how she felt about Kirk, because that was a rabbit hole she'd never escape. Once she admitted how she felt about him, she would no longer be able to deny anything about it to herself and when she inevitably found out that she didn't mean anything to him, it would crush her. Well, not crush her. But she might not be able to face Kirk for a good few months, and given how few people she knew, that would make life very uncomfortable.

Hannah ordered another drink, and slammed it back in one go, turning to Scotty and grinning, a challenge in her eyes.

"Are you ever sober?" Scotty asked Hannah, the comment not quite scolding, but equally it didn't condone her actions. Hannah grinned even wider, and winked at the Scotsman.

"Not if I can help it," She sang. Scotty grumbled slightly, but reluctantly paid for yet another round of drinks.

"I need to make the Captain put you on the pay roll," He mumbled. Hannah laughed, a loud, infectious laugh, and lightly punched Scotty on the shoulder. He looked down at his offended shoulder in surprise, glancing back at Hannah, affronted. After all, 'light' was a relative term. She didn't deign to answer him, merely raised an eyebrow at the Scottish engineer, the unspoken request in her eyes. Scotty stared her down for a moment, and Hannah pouted. Scotty crumbled. He bought Hannah another drink, the two glasses now sat in front of her mocking him. There goes all his money, wasted on feeding an alcoholic's addiction. At least Keenser was a lightweight- cheap to get pissed.

* * *

Hannah stumbled back into her and Kirk's room, her head already starting to pound. She wasn't quite as pissed as she had wanted to be, only slightly off-balance, her world only slightly off. Her past still swam in the back of her mind, and she hummed to herself, trying to squash it out of her thoughts. She fell on to the empty bed, rolling on to her side and curling into a ball. The sheets below her skin were cold, leaching the warmth and life from her as she lay there. The self-loathing washed over her still, the hatred for all the things she'd done, and everything she hadn't done. The people she'd let down whispered in her mind's ear, a silent cacophony of blame and guilt. And more guilt. And more guilt.

Hannah rolled on to her back, and stared up at the ceiling, blocking out her thoughts, and letting herself drift into a restless sleep.

* * *

The Starbase rocked beneath Kirk's feet, and his gaze darted out to the window. Bursts of light scattered along the transparent hull of Yorktown, a distant ship firing on them. Next to him, Commodore Paris leap into action, her voice filling the air with a demand to know what was happening. Alerts blared on the screen that separated Kirk and Paris, warnings of hull breaches, damage to systems, and injuries to the staff of Yorktown. With very little in the way of offensive weapons, Yorktown was a sitting duck. It was unable to defend itself, unable to fight back against this sudden, abrupt attack. Kirk stared out the window, horror dawning on his face. Realisation dawned on him, and he turned to Paris, offering his assistance without words. Paris met his gaze, and nodding a single, thank you to the Captain.

"Kirk," She called before Kirk left her office entirely. "Don't take unnecessary risks. Stay safe." Kirk held her gaze for a moment, and then left, her kindness enough of a dismissal.

* * *

People rushed into a panic, as the Enterprise's crew tried to fight their way through towards their ship. Despair and panic reigned on the unsuspecting citizens, trying to find shelter where there was none. They made life more difficult for the crew of the Enterprise, as they struggled to weave their way through the panic, and struggled even more to shrug off their loved ones. But still they hurried towards their ship, prepping the Enterprise for flight as quickly as they could safely manage. They had been given five minutes to make it on to the ship, and make her flight ready, and no one was going to miss that deadline. After all, they were the only defence this base had. They were not going to let their loved ones die, because they could get out of bed fast enough.

* * *

Scotty and Keenser fought off the haze of inebriation as they hurried towards Engineering, suddenly finding themselves far more sober than they could have believed. The threat of death hung over them, with one mistake possibly costing the lives of hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people. They flew through the launch sequence, ensuring the warp drive was primed and ready to go. Scotty glanced around Engineering, hoping and praying everyone had made it to their stations.

The rush in the Med Bay was even more hectic than in Engineering, with nurses desperately trying to ensure they had enough supplies to tend to the wounded they knew would flood into Med Bay soon enough. McCoy rushed around, counting staff, prepping beds, finding equipment, and constantly noting the absences of his most essential staff. One by one they all hurried into the Med Bay, reporting to duty. All except one. His unofficial staff. Hannah.

* * *

The Enterprise left Yorktown, slowly circling around the far side of the base, attempting to stay hidden whilst the Bridge crew desperately assembled a plan. In the time that it had taken them to move into flight, the number of vessels attacking Yorktown had doubled. Uhura had managed to intercept their communications, and work out precisely who it was they were dealing with.

The Klingon ships, whilst many, did not seem to be a strong military attack. They were too disorganised, too uncoordinated in their attacks. A couple of ships had fired early, mistiming the movements of their companion ships, and had accidentally fired on their own ship. At least the Enterprise had that working in their favour.

* * *

Hannah only woke when she was thrown from the bed by a particularly violent hit. She sprawled out along the floor, her hair tumbling into her mouth and choking her. She coughed and spluttered, scraping the tangle from her mouth, and forced herself upright. She stood as Yorktown shook again. Brushing her hair back off her face, she dragged the sleep from her mind, and stumbled out of the room, not bothering to dress. Her bare feet collided with the ground harshly, her step not as certain as it usually was. The over-sized t-shirt hung to her mid thigh as she stepped into the bustling corridor. Grabbing the nearest adult by the arm, Hannah spoke urgently:

"What's happening? _Tell me_ , what is going on?" She demanded of the poor man. He looked back at her, fear widening his eyes and ripped his arm back.

"We're all going to die," He answered, backing away from her. Hannah stepped half a step backwards, reeling from the sheer horror in his gaze. Barely even recognising the swarm of people in her way, Hannah moved towards the windows of the Starbase. The sky was missing its usual mirage of stars, replaced instead by bright flashes of red light. The shields crackled with each impact, and Hannah could swear she could see them crumbling slowly. Dozens of ships filled the sky, small but weaving in and out of each other, an endless rhythmic dance, holding a promise of destruction to reign down upon the base full of civilians. Hannah froze, her gaze wilding scanning the whole of the night sky, trying to take in the full extent of the threat, the words of the man she'd grabbed ringing in her ears.

They were all going to die.


	15. Chapter 15

They were not going to make it through this alive.

Kirk sat in his chair, listening to the growing list of damage provided by Sulu. Spock spouted off numbers, discussing probability of survival and manoeuvres that they should take. Kirk assumed the comments were directed at him, but his mind was hyper focused on the screen in front of him. Eight Klingon warbirds, and somehow, God knows how, The Enterprise had to neutralise them. Without dying in the process.

"Shields to 70%," Sulu reported back to the Captain, turning in his chair to look at Kirk. Despite Sulu's best efforts, fear was written across his face. His eyes were wide, and his face drawn. Kirk finally experienced what the Kobayashi Maru test had failed to show him. Unutterable terror. He felt his stomach sink low into his hips, his gaze darting below the ships before them.

"Shit," He murmured lightly, before leaping into Captain-Mode, and commanding his crew into a defensive position, protecting Yorktown.

* * *

Hannah walked into the room she had witnessed Kirk enter many times, barely even eliciting a response from Paris. Hannah tugged down the hem of her shirt, and pushed her hand through her hair, suddenly realising the disarray she was in. She coughed slightly, but Paris still didn't look up as her hands danced across the panel in front of her.

"Whatever it is, I do not have time for your complaint. Dismissed," Paris barked at her. Hannah folded her arms across her chest and stepped closer to the console.

"I want to help," Hannah demanded. "I don't know how, but if you can get me on to a ship, I can take it down from the inside." Paris' gaze remained on her console, but her hands paused. Behind her, the window scattered light across the transparent hull of Yorktown. Hannah's gaze was drawn to the destruction that the Klingon ships threatened, and she reached out towards the window. Then she caught herself, and shook herself back into the present. She didn't leave Paris' office.

"Ensign, listen to me. Starfleet cannot condone you getting yourself killed on board an enemy ship," Paris began, her tone motherly, her gaze softening for half a second. "However, you could always help me with tactics from here, and I'll see if someone can break through one ship's shields."

* * *

Kirk was struggling to find a way out of this. Klingon ships pressed in on all sides, and the limited defences of Yorktown were starting to crumble. The Enterprise's own shields were worryingly low, and their ammunition was becoming rapidly depleted. Evasive patterns were good and all, but The Enterprise was taking more hits than they normally would have, trying to avoid them hitting Yorktown. They had taken out one ship, that had disintegrated in a mirage of flames and exploding equipment, and the explosion had knocked another Klingon vessel sideways, damaging their hull, forcing them to withdraw from their aggressive fire. That still left 10 fully functional warbirds staring them down, promising maximum damage. Kirk bit back a retort, pulling his lower lip with his teeth as he muddled his way through defending Yorktown.

* * *

Hannah stepped on to the transporter pad, staring at the blank wall for a moment, before turning heel to face the ensign whose fingers hovered over the console. He looked across at Hannah, an unspoken question in his raised eyebrow. She nodded at him, lifting her chin and breathing in through her nose. The white wall in front of her seemed to spin as the white lights swirled around her, In the last moment before the white lights of the transporter enveloped her, Hannah suddenly realised why the ensign gave her such an odd look, why he seemed more confused than concerned. She was still only wearing Kirk's t shirt.

Well it was too late, she thought to herself, the Klingons were just about to have another surprise on their hands. The kid that had gained access to the Klingon's shield frequencies and managed to intercept them, to allow one single person to sneak on board, deserved a medal. They at least deserved a promotion. Shame they would probably get neither, that is if they lived through this.

* * *

Disorientated for less than a second, Hannah reached out for the nearest body she could reach and slammed them, head first into the ground. The Klingon slumped on to the floor, unconscious or dead, Hannah did not care which. She grabbed the knife that glinted out of the boot and threw it across the room, embedding itself into another Klingon's skull before any of the Bridge crew could even react. The room suddenly burst into life, phasers drawn against her, but Hannah dodged, grabbing the neck of the nearest Klingon, using them as a living shield. Shots fired around her, the sound of phasers hitting walls echoing through Hannah's ears. She snatched the phaser from the holster of her living shield, firing back, missing many Klingons, but hitting enough to significantly reduce the number of Klingons attacking her. Hannah threw the now dead Klingon to the ground, a clear line of sight to her remaining assailants. In rapid fire, she hit each and every one dead centre in their chests. Barely even pausing for breath, she moved to the nearest console and began tapping out a command: a command she did not fully understand. She prayed to every god and higher power that she had remembered it correctly as she punched in the final key.

* * *

"Captain, I'm picking up a transmission from one of the Klingon ships," Uhura reported, flicking a switch above her head.

"On screen." Came the order from her captain, and Uhura immediately responded, the screen bursting into life, pixelated at first, but then clearing to show Hannah's face, her mouth moving silently before the sound kicked in.

"-Dead. I am in command of this vessel, and so I would suggest you turn heel and run back home, tail between your legs," Hannah's voice was low, a dangerous snarl barely restrained within her voice. A sinister smile twitched at her mouth, before her eyes narrowed again, and she tapped out a command with her left hand. "I killed an entire ship barehanded, imagine what I can do with torpedoes at hand. Consider my proposal, and maybe I won't destroy you all. Ta, ta."

Kirk hesitated as the screen faded back out to black.

"Run life signs on the Klingon ship." No one moved. " _Now,"_ he turned around, as if to run the life signs himself. Spock glanced down at his console.

"There is only one. Human," he answered. Kirk pulled in his lower lip, biting down on it hard enough to draw blood. He swallowed difficultly, before lowering himself back into his chair.

"Forward shields to max, let's see what happens." The words seemed to stick in his throat, struggling to find their way out. The mass slaughter of hundreds of Klingons had just occurred, and Kirk felt a deep pit burrow into his stomach. The ghost of Hannah's smirk haunted his gaze, and his shoulders stiffened as he waited. Tension smothered all sound in the Enterprise, and they all sat. Silence reigned, and horror loomed behind them.

* * *

The code Hannah had plugged into the ship seemed to be working its magic as she paced the inside of the Bridge. Bodies lay scattered at her feet, causing her to dance around them, her feet nimble and anxious. Waiting made her twitchy, and so every time she thought she saw a twitch of a finger, or the lift of an eyelid, she squeezed the trigger again. After all, she couldn't have any of the Klingon's coming around and giving the command to override the dead-locked doors. Right now, she was safe inside the Bridge, but the sound of the crew outside the doors echoed around her, thumps of her heart and their fists hitting out an irregular rhythm of fear and panic. Phaser in her hand still, Hannah sank on to the captain's chair, and pressed her palms into the side of her head, focussing on how to breathe. She slowed each breath down, starting to regain control of her downwards spiral. If she overthought, she would be useless. If she didn't do this, everyone she loved would die, or worse, would become murderers themselves.

"Hail the lead Klingon ship," Kirk commanded, after the Klingon ships had held their fire. The Enterprise hovered between the attacking fleet and Yorktown, nothing firing. A tense, uncertain cloud of electricity hung in the air, destruction promised on the tongue of young woman, misplaced in time and lost in space. Uhura's gaze flickered over to Kirk for a second, concern furrowing her brow. But she held her silence, and followed the command. The screen crackled to life within the minute, and Hannah reappeared on the screen. She straightened her spine, and looked straight at Kirk.

"I had to," She began.

"You had to commit mass murder?" Kirk cut across, his incredulous horror widening his eyes. "You've killed _hundreds."_

Hannah's gaze dropped and she pressed the phaser into her forehead, shaking her head slightly.

"Kirk, please. Just trust me," She choked out, her voice hoarse. She lifted her gaze back up to Kirk, her mouth opening to form a new apology, but it was cut short as she was snatched down, out of shot. Kirk pushed himself, stepping towards the screen, as though he could reach her. When Hannah reappeared, it was with a knife pressed into her throat, her phaser gone. A small bead of red appeared at the tip of the knife. The Captain of the Klingon ship, Koloth, grasped her upper arm tightly.

"Kill her and you have no leverage," Kirk said quickly.

"We are not here to negotiate, Star Fleet," Koloth spat the final words out like an insult. "You threatened Qu'noS. This is _war_." He stared down the frozen Captain, his blade digging into Hannah's throat slightly further. Despite the growing cut on her throat, Hannah rolled her eyes, and spoke. A slight reverberation echoed in her voice which had not been there earlier.

"You done fucked up," She laughed coldly. Koloth grasped her arm tighter, dragging her backwards as if to assert his authority further. "One, your ship is going to plough through every other Klingon ship it finds, until the shields fail and we explode into beautiful little shards of metal and flesh." Kirk's eyes grew wider as Hannah spoke, a true horror building in his stomach. Behind him, Spock's eyebrow's squeezed together. His fingers flew over the keys, and the readings on the console seemed to confuse him. Koloth merely snarled at her. "And two, if you're going to hold someone at knife point…" Hannah used her free arm to pull a phaser out of his holster, and shot Koloth in the foot. He let out a primal scream and fell. Hannah kicked the knife away from Koloth's reach and placed a foot on his chest, the phaser pointed at his head. Her face was neutral, the line of red on her throat dripping down a torrential path towards her chest. Not looking away from Koloth, Hannah asked Kirk to enter a code into their systems.

"Why should I do anything you ask?" Kirk demanded, his horror etching his voice. Hannah turned her head over her shoulder and looked at him. For the first time, he could see a genuine fear in her face. Her jaw was taunt, tension held in her very soul.

"Just, just do it." Her hand twitched on the trigger, and she turned back to Koloth. She grasped the phaser firmly and swung it at his head. A loud crack resounded around the Bridge and he crumpled.

* * *

Spock convinced Kirk to act on Hannah's wishes, his calm, cold logic breaking through to Kirk. Sulu entered the code, and everyone waited for the ship to explode.

For a slight second, the lights flickered. All systems shut down, and then sprung back to life again.

Sulu blinked and tapped on the console, frowning.

"She's reconfigured our shields, and rebooted our systems, but I don't understand…" He trailed off. "They're gone."

"What." It almost wasn't a question. Kirk's voice was flat, and unemotional. Sulu frowned, his fingers flying across the screen. Spock spoke for him;

"The Klingon ships moved to warp. Their trajectory suggests they are returning to Qu'noS," He answered. Kirk sat back in his chair, and buried his face in his hands.

"Can anyone explain what happened?" He asked, his voice muffled by his hands. No one answered for a second, then Spock spoke again.

"I believe we were 'hacked'." The term seemed painful to him. Spock glanced down at the screen. "She somehow gained access to all the Klingon's ships and manipulated the sensors along with their weapons and warp cores. Which explains why we received a reading of only one life form on the ship, when she was not alone."

Kirk did not lift his head out of his hands.

"You've lost me again." He muttered, staring down at the floor. The thought of all that death spiralled around in his mind. Somehow, this seemed worse than had the Enterprise destroyed each of the ships. It seemed more personal, more cruel.

* * *

The Med Bay was greeted by a bleeding, disaster of a woman, as the lights flickered out. Hannah stumbled forwards, and grasped hold of McCoy's arm.

"Good god woman, what happened to you?" He spluttered. Hannah glanced up at him.

"I was stabbed, and I killed someone. You missed all the fun, Leonard," She answered flatly. She struggled to lower herself on to the bed, and smothered a yelp as she sat down, pulling the t-shirt over her head. A gaping wound greeted McCoy with a smile. It wasn't long, but it was very deep. He could see the blood still pushing its way out of her, her lower abdomen stained a deep crimson. Hannah pushed a hand on to the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood as her vision crumpled away to darkness at the edges. She grasped out a hand, and caught McCoy by the wrist:

"Please, don't tell Kirk that I'm here. Not yet," She begged. He stopped in his tracks, and looked back at the failing figure, struggling to stay upright. He pushed her back on to the bed, and made her the promise he knew he almost certainly would not keep. Hannah let herself sink downwards on to the bed, her vision finally caving into the blackness that threatened to engulf her whole.


	16. Chapter 16

Hannah sat up tenderly, wincing at the pull on her healing wound. Whatever medical treatments Star Fleet had developed were bounds better than what she was used to, but the new skin still complained as it stretched with her movement. Kirk stared her down, arms folded across his chest and fury blazing from him. The tension in his shoulder looked as though his tendons were going to snap from the strain, his jawline sharp from the clenching of his teeth; biting back a flurry of anger-driven accusations. Hannah met his gaze for less than a second before he tore his eyes away, disgust filling the action. Hannah flinched. The anger and disdain in that simple movement hurt deeper than the stab wound had. She closed her eyes for a long second, willing the dread in her stomach, the warning at the back of her mind, to subside. It didn't.

"What did you do?" Kirk asked, his voice low. It trembled with the effort of controlling his fury. Hannah swung her feet to the floor, inspecting them intensely, as though she was surprised to find them still attached to her. Kirk repeated his demand, this time anger fighting its way to the surface. The bite in his words drew Hannah's gaze up, and she stood, folding her hands behind her back. She was the picture of a respectful Ensign talking to her Captain. It didn't suit her.

"I did what I had to," Hannah answered quietly, cryptically. "I didn't have much choice." Her voice was utterly flat, devoid of any of her usual quirks and inflections. Kirk finally looked back at her, and Hannah wished he hadn't. The cold glare that greeted her was unlike anything she'd ever seen from him. She willed her face to be neutral, impossible to read. Impossible to see her heart shatter.

"You disobeyed my direct order," Kirk began, his breathing still erratic, his chest heaving with each forcibly controlled breath. He ripped his arms away from his chest, curling his fingers into fists in an effort to direct his anger somewhere else. Hannah's mask cracked for half a second and she frowned.

"You didn't _give_ me an order. You just upped and left without me-"

-"I told you to stay out of the way," Kirk snapped back. Hannah threw her head back, trying to find the words in the air above her. Her voice faltered as she struggled to vocalise her objections;

"I-uh- What? When?" She demanded, spluttering out the words as anger piled into her as well. The laugh that choked out from her contained no mirth, only scorn. More a scoff than a laugh, she seemed to stop floundering, her words now pointed, focused and dangerous. "You didn't tell me _shit,_ Kirk. You just left me there- like I was, like I'm nothing more than a pet! Like I'm expendable. Like I'm a fucking liability," Hannah flung her arms around wildly during her speech, turning on the spot and stalking away from Kirk. He followed, retaliating:

"Paris was supposed to tell you to stay-"

-"I'm not your fucking dog-"

-"out of the way. Not to encourage your killing spree!" His voice rose in volume and pitch in equal measures. His nostrils flared as he tried to calm his breathing down. Hannah stared at him, a twitch in her jaw was the only sign of a reaction. Her stillness was unnerving. She held Kirk's gaze for an entire minute and then shook her head slightly, turned heel and strode from the Med Bay.

* * *

Kirk stood still for a moment in Med Bay, not quite sure whether he was meant to go after her or not. He knew he probably was supposed to, go reprimand her at the very least. She did just commit murder on an enormous scale... and yet something held him back. He could quite place it, but something seemed wrong and it glued him in place in the Med Bay, uncertain of what to do.

"Jim, what the fuck?" McCoy spoke with his usual elegance. "What killing spree? What has happened?" Kirk stared straight ahead and then looked at his friend. The helplessness in Kirk's eyes was not something McCoy was used to seeing.

"Honestly, I don't know," Kirk replied. "She saved us, but I don't know how." The silence held itself in the air for a moment, then McCoy raised an eyebrow.

"Ask Spock?" He suggested, at the same moment Kirk announced:

"I'm going to ask Spock."

McCoy rolled his eyes as Kirk strode out of the Med Bay, looking somewhat confused. He crossed his arms, paused and then seemed to suddenly realise Hannah had left a few minutes before. He walked back into his office muttering under his breath:

"Fine, it's fine. If she opens her wounds it's not like it's my problem, I'm only the CMO, but fine."

* * *

Hannah let out a low hiss as the wound on her side stretched out, her arm reaching up over her head. She couldn't wait for the skin to gain back its elasticity and she would be able to move again. The cup of coffee sat in front of her, untouched, the report unwritten. She knew she would inevitably have to write one, so she had decided to get a head start on it. Own up to her own crime. It was not going well. Hannah glanced up at the door as it slid open, and quickly jerked it back down as she saw Kirk enter. She peeked through the curtain of hair that shielded her from his view, praying he hadn't noticed her.

Luckily for her, Sulu, Scotty and Keenser all chose that moment to join her.

"Didnae fret, the captain is not coming here," Scotty nudged her with his elbow, trying to draw her gaze upwards. It did not work. Hannah stared stoically at her PADD and pretended to use it, for half a second before glancing up at him. Sulu shrugged at her and scooped up the food into his mouth.

"Can we not talk about the Klingons again?" He grumbled. "It's all anyone has mentioned in the past week-"

-"It's been two days," Hannah cut in flatly. Sulu fixed her with a glare that would have made anyone back down, but Hannah just raised an eyebrow at him and let a slight smirk form at the corners of her mouth. Raising the coffee cup slightly, she added: "Remember Sulu, I apparently just slaughtered an entire Klingon ship. I ain't afraid of no Sulus."

Sulu rolled his eyes at her comment, and scoffed. Hannah grinned back and finally drank her now-cold coffee. Gulping it down awkwardly, she coughed a little before speaking again.

"But I'm with Sulu, the Klingons are old news- Scotty you asked out that girl yet?" She grinned across at Scotty, whose eyes grew suddenly wide. He choked on the mouthful of toast he had just taken, and slammed a hand across his mouth to stop him spraying crumbs everywhere. He was mostly successful. Mostly. Sulu, Hannah and Keenser all waited expectantly for a response, grinning manically at the Chief Engineer. When he had finished spluttering his food down, he let out a feeble:

"Wha-at," his voice skipping on the words. Hannah raised an eyebrow at him, and pushed his shoulder lightly.

"Oh come on," Hannah dragged out the word with glee. "You know the one- she's kinda short, got this really cute chin length brown hair… she's always in here on her off hours reading something. What's her name-"

"Frankie," Sulu offered. Scotty glared at him. Hannah grinned. The easy conversation was a great distraction for her, and Hannah was endlessly grateful.

* * *

The door made its announcement, proclaiming there was someone at the door. Kirk ignored it, he'd had one hellish day and he did not have the energy to deal with anymore problems today. The door seemed to mock him in it's obstinate, immoveable structure. He might have refused entry to the person outside, but not knowing who it was now bugged him.

"Kirk, it's me," A voice came through the door. Hannah. Kirk returned to his desk and to his drink, and continued to ignore her. "Kirk, come on. Let me in," The voice rose slightly, speaking louder but also a tinge of hurt coming into her voice.

"I'm not in," He answered, almost sullenly. He knew he sounded childish, but he couldn't quite bring himself to see her just yet. Spock had explained to him, in his condescending manner, that in fact Hannah's presence on the Klingon ship might not have lead to any deaths. She had somehow manipulated the sensors to show only her life sign, leading the other Klingon ships to believe she had slaughtered them all.

"Of course you aren't." Kirk could almost hear the eye roll in the dry comment. Not deigning to respond to her, not able to respond to her, Kirk twisted the glass around in his hands; once, twice, three times. And paused, and downed its contents. There he stood, by his desk but unable to sit, one ear to the door and his mind in a whirl.

* * *

Hannah sat outside the room, her back pressed against the door. The PADD in her hand twisted many times over, as she tried to form the words in her head. Her sentences were incoherent, incomprehensible, her mind a mess of "please"s and "i'm sorry"s when the door slid open, and she nearly fell backwards. She scrambled upright, floundering inelegantly to look Kirk in the eye. When she met his gaze, only to find the cold anger she'd seen in the Med Bay, her heart sank towards her stomach. She thrust out the PADD towards him, and stammered over her words.

"My… my account of what happened. Thought you might need it," Hannah turned away from her captain and looked to her feet. Lifting a hand to the back of her neck, she rubbed a tender spot a bit too aggressively, leaving a red pressure mark, hidden by the swathes of hair. Hannah's eye flickered back up, and the word tumbled out before she could catch it: "Jim…" She trailed off a little helplessly, and didn't get any further with her apology. But it was all that was needed. On hearing his own first name, Kirk's gaze softened and he took the PADD off her, allowing the door to slide back shut between them. The door closed with a finality that caused something in the pit of Hannah's stomach to twist itself over and over. She swallowed hard, clenching the muscles in her jaw briefly, before turning heel and striding away, an almost imperceptible hitch in her step.

* * *

Hannah wandered around the decks of The Enterprise until she found the place she was subconsciously looking for. The 'view-deck', as she had dubbed it. It was a large room with next to nothing in it, but the contents was not what she came from. A large window stretched the length of the room, with a bench that protruded out just below it, supporting struts appearing every three feet or so. Just enough room to sit with her back against the struts, her legs stretched out on the bench. The window curved around, allowing her to see the whole expanse of the sky, stretching out for an eternity, the splatterings of stars glinting cheerily, the faint haze of a distant nebula teasingly just out of sight.

Here it was that Hannah sat, blanket over her knees, mug of tea in hand, for hours.

Her head rested against the window, the cool glass seeping the heat from her forehead, the ever presence, ever so faint, trembles of the engine rumbling underneath her. Hannah gazed out into space, soaking in the possibilities it held, greedily drinking in the infinity laid before her. The tea cradled in her hands, warmth filled her. An ease almost settled within her, the turbulent emotions of the last few days subsiding slightly.

She heard the doors to the View-Deck open, but didn't register the sound fully until someone coughed from behind her. Slowly, she dragged her gaze away from the sprawling stars, and met Kirk's gaze.

"Oh," She couldn't help the sound from spilling out, but Kirk didn't seem to mind. He held out a comm-badge towards her. Her own comm-badge. She sheepishly took it, and pulled her feet closer towards her, allowing him to sit next to her. Kirk sat, awkwardly, facing towards her, leaning on the next strut across.

"I'm sorry-" They both chorused, before awkwardly falling back into a silence. Kirk fiddled with the hem of Hannah's blanket, looking down at it closely. He cleared his throat then began;

"I should have let you explain before I assumed-" He cut off abruptly when Hannah placed a hand atop of his, a reassuring warmth. He looked up at her and she smiled half-heartedly.

"I should have told you what I was doing, but I thought if your reaction was genuine…" She trailed off this time, returning her hand to her tea, and looking back up at the stars.

* * *

They sat for a while without speaking, before Kirk broke the silence again.

"Why here?" He asked, his voice soft and low. Hannah didn't look away from the endless night before responding.

"I've always liked to see the sky," She began slowly. "When," She faltered on her words, and stared stoically out at the night, "When That happened, we were in the basement. We couldn't see the sky. We couldn't see much, to be honest. We were just trapped in this endless darkness- because of course they wouldn't waste electricity on us- and the only times we got out, it was day time. So the night sky became a safe haven for me. So long as I could see the sky, and the stars, I was free. I would be okay so long as the stars were above me, and I had the moon's light to see by." Hannah glanced across to Kirk, and saw the pity in his eyes. She hated it, but she kept speaking; "Whenever I had a bad night, I'd come look up at the sky and I'd be able to shake myself out of it. But now everything is the sky and nothing is tying me down, and I feel so lost and disjointed that coming here- sitting here and just looking out at the sky makes me feel safe, you know?

"But the stars are different out here. They change every day, and I don't know where I am, or…" Hannah trailed off and looked over at Kirk. He gently gripped her hand, reassuring. Hannah smiled sadly back at him, and placed the tea on the floor. Shuffling around on the bench, she rested her head in his shoulder, a comforting arm draped around her shoulders.

"You scared me," Kirk said quietly, as Hannah laid back on to him. "That woman on the Klingon ship, she wasn't the Hannah I thought I knew. I couldn't see anything of you in her."

 _There's more of her in me than you could ever realise, Jim,_ Hannah thought, but she held her tongue, and simply looked out to the endless night. She felt her stomach sink, knowing herself to be both that woman, vicious and unashamed of her actions, and the girl sat here. She squashed down the feeling of dread that rose within her, cradling the tea close to her chest as a comfort. The weight of Kirk's arm grounded her in this weightless moment, and she curled imperceptibly closer to

"Promise me you won't do anything like that without telling me first?" Kirk asked, tugging her gaze back up to him. Hannah lifted her head, and lightly pressed a kiss into Kirk's cheek.

"I promise," She whispered. Kirk pressed his lips into her hair, three unspoken words hovering just out of reach. Both of them didn't say anything more, the words they felt dangling in the air just in front of them, but it was too soon to say them. Too much in this moment; Kirk was still somewhat angry with Hannah, Hannah was still too hurt to open herself up further. The two individuals, so brave when they were being selfless, were cowards when it came to being selfish. And so the ship, and the stars and the endless void whispered silently the words that they could not bring themselves to say:

 _I love you._


	17. Chapter 17

The hail appeared to come out of the vastness of space itself. Uhura's voice echoed the surprise and incomprehension that ran through her upon receiving a hail. Then, as though to answer the bridge's questioning looks, a ship materialised on their starboard bow in a collision of light. Kirk peered at them, blinking back his surprise. He registered the Star Fleet insignia on the stranger's ship, and nodded to Uhura.

"On screen," he commanded. A crackle of sound, flickering of light, and an admiral appeared on the screen, inflated beyond normal proportions. Kirk greeted the admiral politely, an inclination of his head deferring his mandated respect. The exchange that followed caught the rapt attention of the entire bridge crew, bated breath holding them to their stations. No one dared interject, merely allowing Kirk to retaliate within the confines of politeness. The twitch in his jaw was all that betrayed his building irritation. Once the admiral's orders had been decreed, Kirk bade him farewell in the expected manner, eternally restraining his anger. Once the screen shut off, revealing only space and the new ship did his face crumble to his fury.

* * *

"Ensign Mortimer, report to the bridge."

Hannah looked up from her patient, surprise drawing her gaze towards the sound, as though she'd be able to see the announcement written in the air above her. She snapped shut the tricorder with a definitive authority, and glanced over at McCoy in his office. Dismissing her patient, with a swift injection to the neck and a smile, she threw the tricorder on to a metal tray. The collision of metal on metal resounded through the Med Bay and caused McCoy to look up at the young woman in front of him. Hannah nodded up at the speaker concealed in the ceiling and spoke quietly.

"That sounded serious, do you think if I hide down here, he'll forget he needed to talk to me?" She asked as she sat on the desk. McCoy raised an eyebrow at her, and retorted.

"What do you think?" McCoy leant back in his chair before continuing musingly. "If he's summoning you publicly then you must have done something bad. What was it?" Hannah shrugged helplessly.

"Unless he's going to yell at me for the Klingon thing again, I have no idea. I've been a good wee 'un, kept my head down - haven't even bickered with Cupcake this week!" She protested, slithering off the desk. Groaning like a petulant child, Hannah moved towards the door and then stopped. "He's gonna yell at me for the Klingon thing again, isn't he?"

"You _did_ nearly get yourself killed and led all of us to believe you were willing to commit mass slaughter."

"Yeah, whatever. Mumma McCoy."

* * *

Hannah walked on to the bridge, awkwardness causing her to scratch at the side of her neck. As the eyes turned to her, she froze in her step. She glanced around the room, soaking in the watchful gazes flicking back between her and Kirk, fear building in her throat now, instead of simple discomfort. Hannah swallowed, suddenly realising she hadn't faced a group of people this large since before she threatened to kill several hundred Klingons, and herself with them. She faltered the last few steps towards the Captain, and her voice failed her. Swallowing hard for a second time, she tried once more.

"What's happened?" Her voice came out hoarse, uncertain. Kirk stood from the chair he still wasn't convinced he'd earned, and faced her.

"You've been called to a hearing. On Earth." His voice was clipped and as tight as Hannah's own. Kirk seemed to be more distressed by this revelation than Hannah, and he grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her closer to him. "Hannah, the Klingons are threatening war. And Star Fleet is holding you responsible. You leave tonight, at 1800, to be charged by both Star Fleet and the Klingon High Council."

Suddenly the realisation of what this could mean slammed into her. Her eyes widened and she whispered a query to Kirk. He lightly shook his head, and she pressed her eyes shut, tightening a hand into a fist, nails digging into her palms.

"1800 is in two hours. Guess I should go... get ready. Or say goodbyes," she trailed off as she fled the Bridge.

* * *

As the doors of the turbolift closed behind her, Hannah found tears choking her throat and threatening to spill. She lifted a hand to her eyes, brushing away a tear as though she was surprised to find it there. She was to be tried as a war criminal, for starting a war that would devastate the universe. She'd known that relationships between Star Fleet and the Klingons were tender - especially after the stunt Marcus had tried to pull - and yet she had insisted on defending Yorktown so clumsily. She had given them a legitimate reason to attack Earth, an excuse of offence to fall back on. Despite them initiating the attack on Yorktown, they could claim so much worse from Hannah, and they'd have the data to back up their claims that she slaughtered a ship. All because she'd been so goddamn arrogant. All because she couldn't bear to see Kirk try to handle the stress of being Captain in a lose-lose situation.

She reached the door of her room without even registering she had left the turbolift. The tears were now flooding out of her eyes, as she spun through all the possible retributions she might face from Star Fleet alone, never mind the Klingon High Council. Death would be too kind for her, too easy to come from the Klingons.  
She sat heavily on the bed, and brushed her hair back out of her eyes. Falling backwards, Hannah let herself be consumed by all the possibilities of her future. None were good. None involved Kirk, and that pained her more than she permitted herself to admit. Bile rose in her throat, and she flung herself up off the bed, unceremoniously throwing up in her sink. She coughed at the rancid taste, choking at the smell of vomit. The sight of her own face in the mirror alarmed her. It was barely recognisable as hers. White, shaking and puffy, Hannah looked awful. She looked terrified. She was terrified.

* * *

Hannah's farewell to Kirk was the most painful one. It took more strength than she thought she had. The private farewell, the one that occurred in the seclusion of her room, involved more tears, an excess of hugging and a constant stream of apologies. Hannah's uncharacteristic remorse rung through Kirk like an arrow to the heart. He clung to her, arms wrapped tight around her shoulder, and brushed a hand soothingly down her hair, murmuring comforts into her ear as she wept.  
The public farewell was more restrained; a single hug, a polite farewell when they parted, and a whispered confession before they parted. The embrace was still as tight, as passionate, and mournful, but the words that fled from Hannah were far steadier than those she had said earlier.

"I love you, Jim," She smiled at him as they parted, and placed a hand on his cheek. Kissing him once, she clenched her teeth to stop the tears from flowing as she turned, maintaining the illusion she worked so hard on. She stepped lightly on to the transporter pad, and grinned at the assembled crowd. Saluting once, her hand froze mid way as the light whirled around her.

Then she was gone.


End file.
